Orange Colored Sky
by AFIS
Summary: Maura Isles has it all. A career she loves, a beautiful home, and her lover Jane Rizzoli at her side. But she wants more from her life that only a child can fulfill. Jane, however, is reluctant to become a mother despite her girlfriend's need to conceive. When a high-profile case from her past comes back to haunt her, the past meets the present, forcing her to attack her fears.
1. Chapter 1

A/N - Hello, readers. It's been awhile but here is the next installment in the Boston series. I'll probably be updating a tad slower than usual with this fic but bear with me. I'm writing/editing as fast as my sanity can allow. Have fun reading. :)

Disclaimer - Don't own R&I or any of its elements. Tess, JTam, and TNT, please don't sue me for playing with the characters. They will be returned safely upon completion.

Reminder: I have no assistance in editing. I go it alone. Any mistakes, typos, and errors are all my fault.

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Orange Colored Sky

Fifth installment in the Boston series

"Let's have a baby."

And with four simple words – not including the contraction – Jane Rizzoli somehow found herself sitting in a comfortable, albeit disconcerting, medical office. The room was what one would expect of an office of this type, meant to soothe worries while unknowingly creating even more wrinkles in the fabric of calm that every single man or woman has tried to pull off in a room like this. A polite sniff of the filtered air reaffirmed the tall brunette's suspicions concerning her disbelief of any kind of human presence being born in the sterilized factory.

"We're not having a baby."

A comforting squeeze from her longtime lover and best friend, Dr. Maura Isles, chief medical examiner, did little to calm Jane's nerves. In the back of her mind, she was annoyed, annoyed at herself, Maura, and even the one who had caused this whole mess. The little girl who had started this whole mess of maternal need in the blonde was gone, leaving her to direct her anger at the only person left that satisfied her ego.

_If it wasn't for you, Maura, I wouldn't be here. You want a baby. I'm just the baggage that's coming along for the trip._

But that was wrong. Jane loved Maura more than life itself. In the last couple of years, their friendship had developed from a close bond to a mating of kindred spirits. She couldn't imagine her life without the blonde in it, at least in some capacity or other. Everything had been perfect – well, at the very least, a varying shade of perfection – until…

"Dr. Isles, I'm so sorry for being so late," a voice said from behind the two of them as she walked into the closed walnut door. Jane turned to see the petite woman glide gracefully into the office, her white doctor's coat shining in the sunlight streaming in from the window. Light blonde hair framed the maternal energy radiating from her soft, green eyes. An obsessive desire to hug the older woman and confess her anxieties surprised the detective.

Jane watched curiously as the doctor welcomed them with the typical pleasantries. _About time_, Jane thought ruefully, giving the older woman an annoyed glare from her seat. After driving like a mad hatter through Boston while listening to Maura's whining about being late for the damn appointment, signing in at the desk, and then being told to wait for thirty minutes, they were dropped off in the doctor's office to – you guessed it – sit and wait for another ten minutes.

God, she hated doctors like the plague. They all acted as if spending all day reading an issue of _People _from the '90s is the typical busy woman's idea of fun.

Damn, doctors. That's all they ever do is tell you to sit in a hard chair, wait like a good little girl, and read old issues of Holly Homemaker while your body takes on the same shape as the damn seat. Damn doctors, damn seats, damn Maura, and goddamn Clementine for causing all of this.

"So, you two are here to start the process of having a child together," the doctor said sweetly. She turned her attention to Maura. "This will be your first?"

Maura smiled. "How could you tell?"

"Your wardrobe," the doctor said with a wink. "I've seen my share of mothers in my day but none have ever come into the office wearing a Chloé blouse and Balmain leather pants." She appraised Maura's pants. "Loving the fluorescent purple, by the way."

Jane looked over at the bright assemble her girlfriend had decided to don for work in the morgue. The blouse's understated pattern of roses printed against a sheer fabric that nearly exposed the sexy cut of her bra still managed to cause her breathe to catch in her throat. Paired with the panache of neon purple, skin-tight, leather pants, she had had to spend most of the time upstairs at her desk for the day to prevent risky business occurring in the Maura's office.

Maura blushed. "Yes, this will be _our_ first," she said, turning toward the reluctant brunette next to her in an obvious attempt to involve Jane in the process. The emphasis on the plural possessive wasn't lost on the detective, but she refused to acknowledge. "We've wanted to do this for some time now. But now feels like the best time. We're not getting any younger."

"Biology waits for no man or woman."

The two share a hearty laugh, leaving Jane feeling like a complete dumbass of the highest proportions. Honestly, she didn't feel as if they were getting old. She constantly told her girlfriend about her Aunt Theresa who had a baby (supposedly…) the old-fashioned way when she was 69 (allegedly…) but Maura kept insisting that, medical miracles in the Rizzoli family aside, they were rapidly approaching the end of possibilities for having a child of their own.

Half of Jane's mind had to agree with all of the scientific jargon spouted at consistent intervals from the eccentric medical examiner concerning the decreased lack of fertility and increased risk of birth defects that came with pregnancy after forty. All of it made sense. No denying that much.

Yet accepting logic as sensible didn't do much for the niggling doubt that loved to play in the shadows of her mind whenever Jane least expected it. That doubt…she couldn't quite explain it… What was it?

Understanding complex emotions were beyond her emotional range. Grief, psychosis, joy, love, ecstasy…those were emotions she could comprehend. This weird amalgamation of doubt, worry, and – oddly enough – guilt defied all of the usual methods of understanding. She didn't know what was worse, the feelings or the not knowing how to change those feelings.

"Ms. Rizzoli? Do you need a minute?" the doctor asked politely, interrupting Jane's thoughts.

With a look of concern, Maura turned toward Jane with a slight frown. "Jane…"

"I'm fine, really." Jane said. She returned her focus back to the mountain of paperwork accruing on the doctor's desk. "Woah, hold the phone. Listen, doc. We already raced here across town to make sure we had enough time to waste writing our entire life history down in the waiting room. I refuse to waste more trees."

"I didn't take you as a tree-hugger."

Jane smirked. "I'm not. I just don't want to write anymore. My hand is in critical state of pain. There's gotta be some kind of governmental limit on writing your social security number in a public place more than ten times."

"If you're intimating that someone would steal your identity, the assumption deterrence act of 1988 would ensure that-" Maura started. As usual, the brunette gave her a look of disapproval, muting her fun factoid before she could even get started.

The doctor chuckled at their behavior. She took an expensive fountain pen from her desk to write with. "Well, I can assure you, Ms. Rizzoli you are finished with your half of the bargain. This is my burden, I'm afraid." She made a comical expression of faux sadness before grabbing the small stack of papers to enter into their folder. "I'm just going to ask you two some questions regarding the status of your relationship. After the boring stuff we'll continue with the more exciting stuff. By the way, it's Dr. Rose."

Jane seemed slightly puzzled. "What's Dr. Rose? The name of your favorite chardonnay?"

"My name is Dr. Rose," she clarified, pointing at her monogrammed white doctor's coat with the name and credentials.

With a slight blush of embarrassment, Jane focused her attention to a particularly interesting seam in her black pants. She ignored the sound of laughter coming from the woman beside her.

"How long have you two been together?"

Maura smiled. "It's been about three years now."

"Three years?" Dr. Rose said with a raised eyebrow. "That's longer than some women keep a pair of shoes. How did the two of you meet? If you don't mind me asking."

"It's alright. You wouldn't be the first to ask." Maura looked over at Jane with an affectionate gaze. She moved slightly on the couch to hold the brunette's hand. "Jane's a detective with the Boston Police Department. We've been friends for several years. I met her when she was still in the Drug Unit. She needed a loan for a donut and coffee while undercover as a hooker."

Jane smirked. "She means when we started our relationship, Maura."

Maura looked in confusion between Jane and Dr. Rose before giving herself a playful slap on the forehead.

"Ohh… Well…that's a long story. Let's just say Jane's jealousy got the best of her and she finally got the courage to tell me how she felt about me."

"I was not jealous."

"If you say so, honey," Maura placated, patting Jane on her arm. "It's been kind of hard to balance our work schedules with each other's needs but we're doing much better. We think now is the best time to work on expanding our family." She turned to her girlfriend with an excited smile. "Right, honey?"

"Yeah…sure," Jane answered, moodily.

A heavy silence covered the room as she looked down at the engraved silver ring on her left hand, lost in thought. Both Dr. Rose and Maura turned toward her with furrowed eyebrows, unsure of her girlfriend's state of mind. It was unusual for Jane to be introspective given how impulsive she tended to be. The blonde gave her a playful poke in the ribs, right above the bullet scar from two years ago.

"Jane?" Maura asked. "You alright?"

Jane nodded slightly. "Sorry, I'm just a little preoccupied."

Dr. Rose wasn't an idiot. She had seen her fair share of couples and immediately recognized a relationship dealing with underlying issues. She couldn't quite place what was wrong with the two women who were obviously smitten with each other but knew it could potentially be a problem in the future. In her experience, Dr. Rose knew that expanding a family would always bring to light the problems in even the best of relationships.

"So, do you two have experience with children?"

Suddenly, the two women's moods visibly darkened, despair plainly evident. Jane, the stronger of the two, gave little indication to her thoughts except a slight twitch of her lips but Maura looked away, her hand gripping Jane's as if it was a crucial lifeline.

Dr. Rose put her pen down from scribbling at the mandatory write-up on the couple. "We can discuss this at a later date if it would be easier for the two of you?"

"No," Maura said authoritatively, ignoring the slight tremble in her voice. "We took care of an orphan child a couple of months ago. She was about eight months old when we decided to take care of her until a member of her family could be found. Clementine…we got attached and…" A shaky breath filled the room as she struggled to retain her composure.

Jane quickly took over. "She took a turn for the worse. The whole thing was a mess." She sighed, rubbing her temples in exhaustion. "I can assure you, doctor, we took great care of her. Took her to those mommy-and-me classes, bought her monogrammed clothes, the whole nine yards."

"You fell in love with a child that wasn't yours to love."

Both Maura and Jane released a heavy sigh of approval before sinking down in the plush, black sofa of Dr. Rose's office.

With a polite cough, Dr. Rose resumed writing. "What about your work schedule? I'm sure it is beyond hectic. Are you prepared to adjust your lifestyle for the time that a child needs?"

That's a good question, Jane thought, wishing she knew the answer. Maura was beyond ready to have a child but she was more comfortable on the fence about the whole thing. Being a detective was her life, her identity, her purpose. The idea of giving it all up to ride a desk all day while her friends run off into the line of fire was regressing backwards, throwing everything she had worked for away. She couldn't do that…could she?

"Yes, we're ready," Maura said, interrupting Jane's thoughts to the contrary.

With a sigh, Jane took her arm away from Maura's in annoyance. Ever since their fight in the car after Clementine's passing, the blonde had made it increasingly difficult to voice her concerns.

Maura was tired of waiting and Jane couldn't blame her. Having a child was important to her and it always had been. After the reaming she had received, she knew her complaints would just be seen as another way to drag her feet about the one thing important to Maura, having a child together. Maura had made it perfectly clear that this was happening, regardless of whether the hesitant brunette was on board or not.

"I think we're nearly finished with most of the preliminary questions," the doctor said comfortingly, interrupting Jane's thoughts. "Just a couple more and we'll wrap up. The first meeting is usually the longest."

With a nod, Maura released a small laugh of understanding. "I did a residency with a neurosurgeon. The wait of the initial consultation with patients was literally three hours of endless questions. Nothing could be as bad as that."

"I'm sure. Neurology can be trying at the best of times. Who'd you study under?"

"I don't think you'd know him. Dr. Thompson? He retired-"

Jane coughed loudly. "I really hate to interrupt your doc-romance, but I'd really like to finish this up." She turned toward Maura with a frown. "You know I'm on call, honey."

Maura narrowed her eyes. "Jane…"

"No," Jane commanded. She rolled her eyes in subdued annoyance. "Don't make that face. I told you when you scheduled this appointment that I'd be on call."

"You're always on call," Maura stated, her voice flat and emotionless. "If it was up to your schedule, the appointment would have been made for next year."

Jane turned back to her girlfriend, brown locks lashing her face. "Are you kidding me? You know that I work. Unlike you, I don't have a schedule that I can rearrange whenever I feel like it or have a shopping craving."

As the two women continued to bicker with each other, Dr. Rose looked up from her report. Normally couples wait until after the baby is born to show their dysfunctional colors.

Deciding to reserve judgment on the two women, the doctor continued with the comforting smile as before. She grabbed a small tin off her organized desk.

"Would you like a cookie?"

Jane stopped bickering with Maura to return her attention to the doctor. "I'll take one." She took a pink wafer into her fingers, using the sweet finger food to avoid her girlfriend's judgmental face. The same comforting, slightly unsettling smile continued to grace the older woman's face as she turned toward her computer to type.

"Now to the nitty-gritty part of the consultation," Dr. Rose said. "Are you two looking to adopt or try in vitro? Both methods are viable but they each have pros and cons to weigh."

"We'd like to try conceiving first," Maura replied. "Adoption is always an option, but it's important to me to at least try to have a child the natural way."

The doctor nodded. Her hands sped over the computer key strokes with precise motions. "So you two have already made a decision for Maura to be the mommy? Most same-sex couples take months to figure out who's going to handle mommy duty. You two are already ahead of the game."

"Umm…no offense, Doc', but we're both planning on being the mommy," Jane said.

With a laugh, Dr. Rose stopped typing for a brief second to give the couple a bemused smile. "My apologies, I should have clarified. I meant that Maura is going to be the gestational carrier for nine months."

Jane smirked. "I have no interest in turning into a balloon for an extended period of time. Besides, Maura wants this far more than I do."

Even Dr. Rose couldn't stop her eyes from narrowing at the brunette's insensitive comment. Jane, however, hardly noticed the looks of complaint from the doctor and her girlfriend, instead focusing on the screen of her iPhone. "Damn it, Frost. Stop sending me mp4s or gifs or whatever this is."

"Jane…" Maura warned, poking her to regain the woman's focus. "I wish you'd stay focused on the matter at hand."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Jane muttered.

Jane moved to put her phone back on sleep. She chose to ignore Maura's frown of disapproval. Dr. Rose stood up to cross the room toward a large, tastefully placed wooden file cabinet. The cabinet opened with a creak of complaint but slid outward without catching. She took out a large catalog that seemed to have the same weight as a Gutenberg Bible.

"Both adoption and in vitro can potentially take around the same time. There's no harm in picking one over the other," she said, sliding the weighty tome across the desk. "This is the most recent publication from all of the donor facilities in the United States. I'd suggest picking several that interest you just in case there is low compatibility between egg and sperm. Everything from pictures and basic donor information is there so feel free to take it home and discuss it. Some couples prefer privacy when making decisions such as these."

Maura smiled. "That won't be necessary. We already have someone in mind. He's already expressed interest so we're hoping it all goes well."

"Well…" Dr. Rose grabbed the catalogue and put it on the floor. "You two are going to leave me with little to do. Guess we can move to the next step. I see from your files that you and Jane both have your eggs frozen at our fertility clinic. I'll send a request to start preliminary tests. If your potential donor comes through, we'll move from there."

"How long should this process take?"

"Depends," Dr. Rose said. "Some couples have taken as little as two to three months before implantation while others have to go through several years. It's all relative. But you've done most of the hard work already by having a potential donor in mind and determining the gestational carrier."

Maura nodded. Unexpectedly, a loud vibrating sound comes from Jane's side of the couch. With a slight shake of her head, she turned toward her girlfriend, knowing that the inevitable had occurred. Jane was being called to work, thus ending their shared day off. Alone time was beyond hard to find given the wacky nature of their schedules. She was beyond disappointed despite the brunette's bad behavior.

"I got to take this," Jane said, already beginning to stand up. She seemed relieved to have something, anything to take her away from the office. "It's Korsak. Shouldn't be but a minute."

Before Maura could nod, Jane had left the spacious office to take the call outside. Maura turned back to the doctor with a smile, trying to keep the frustration from reading on her face. It was a lost battle.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "Jane is always like this."

"Like what?"

Maura sighed, trying to find the best word to define the woman she still found to be somewhat of a mystery. "Dedicated."

"Children need dedication too, you know. From my own experience, parenting is hard enough as a single parent. It can be even worse when two parents have differing priorities."

Maura leaned back in the comfortable chair. Her eyes closed tiredly against her will. None of what the doctor was saying was surprising. God knows she had spent far too long thinking the same things during the nights she was forced to spend alone because Jane had been called out for an all-hands-on-deck homicide.

Maura couldn't help but hope that Jane would come around. She has to, the blonde thought, knowing how naïve it sounded even in her mind.

"I know," Maura replied weakly. "Trust me, I know, Dr. Rose."

-/-/-/-/-/-

With quick steps, Jane made her way to a small enclave near the doctor's office, each echoing click of her boots accompanying her powerful steps. In the back of her mind, she felt guilty for wanting to escape the consultation but there was little time to waste. The vibrating cell phone beckoned her back to work. Maura understood how much work meant to her. Work and family always came first.

The detective felt the phone vibrating for the second time. She took it out of her pocket, knowing who was calling instinctually.

"Korsak," she said authoritatively. "You got a case?"

"Can I at least get a hello first?"

"Hello," Jane added sarcastically. "Seriously, what do you have? I'm not getting any younger, _Sergeant_."

Jane's emphasis on her old partner's rank was a running joke between them and always elicited a laugh from the two experienced detectives. Korsak had always made it clear since his promotion that nothing had changed between him and the team, but Jane couldn't help to poke fun at him whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Occasionally, she felt pangs of annoyance regarding her own lack of juice with the higher ups to get an opportunity to gain more achievement. All of those cases cracked over the years meant nothing without juice.

Accommodations and medals were great for bragging rights but a rise in rank was the real golden star of a cop's career. Her old superior officer in the academy had told her that she'd been in the force for over ten years before finally rising to senior detective in the Gang Unit. Ten years… Jane couldn't even fathom the thought.

Unlike Lieutenant Grant, her old supervisor, Jane felt no desire to climb the ladder of meaningless politicking and two-faced dialogues to be the chief of police. She just wanted some visible respect for all of the time she had put in at BPD. Kids came in all the time with little to their name and got to rank up within a year. She couldn't even get her boss's attention.

"Ha-ha, very funny. If only we all could age as gracefully as you," Korsak said sarcastically. "I've got two teens in an abandoned building. Drug Unit decided to hand it over to us. They claim to be 'too busy on their end' for open-shut cases like this one. Not like we're busy." He made a slight sound of disbelief. "Coroner says it looks like an OD. Maybe PCP or one of those new designer drugs. Peyote, hashish, or something."

"Which coroner? Edwards? I thought he moved to North Dakota to start that dream restaurant of his with the do-it-yourself pancake bar?"

"No, one of Maura's new assistant interns. They all blur together after a while. Claims he won't be able to officially state a COD until Maura affirms. For once the narcotic guys aren't bullshitting us. It really should be a simple open-shut case."

Looking back in the general direction of the doctor's office, Jane frowned. "I'm doing some personal business with Maura at the moment."

Korsak sighed heavily. "You know how many times I've been called out during an intimate moment with any one of my wives? Far too often," he said. "Jane, listen, I know you've got your own stuff going on. I'm beyond happy for you and Maura finding happiness with each other. But you know I can't have you picking and choosing your cases at whatever time suits you. It sets a bad precedent. Next thing I know, Cavanaugh will be on my ass about not being on your ass about case assignments."

"I'm on desk duty."

"And that's why I'm assigning it. You won't have to leave BPD to get it done."

Jane rolled her eyes. She slumped against the wall, using the shadows to hide her frustration. _God, I hate this._ Picking and choosing between her girlfriend and her career had always been a problem, but lately it was becoming even more difficult to find the right balance. Starting a family and being a homicide detective were two full time jobs. There just wasn't enough time in the day to give her attention to both equally.

If only there was someone she could talk to who would understand… Maura, her usual choice for anything bothering her, was far too gung-ho about having a child to focus on anyone else but herself. Her mother had been completely dependent on her father and being a doting, Italian housewife. Asking her mother about establishing a balance between work and family was like asking a professional football player what he thought about wearing stilettos.

For the first time in her life, Jane found herself wishing she had been more feminine back in high school. Maybe if she had spent more time paying attention in home economics instead of running off to field hockey games and playing lacrosse on the weekends this wouldn't be happening.

Jane had always had more guy friends than girlfriends, leaving her with no one to consult with. The few girlfriends she had were more used to seeing her as the third wheel regarding children matters. She had just managed to tell them about her and Maura being together. Asking them, "Hey, when you were having little Jacob, did you ever feel like you'd be the worst mother in the world? Did the idea of him possibly becoming a serial killer ever cross your mind?" It was completely inappropriate. _Maybe Frankie knows someone…_

"Listen, Korsak, I know I'm asking for you to put your neck on the line for me again-"

"But you want me to anyway," Korsak finished.

"I owe you. Whatever you need, I've got it. No questions asked."

A slight pause over the line brought the subtle sound of crackling electronic interference from the medical equipment as Jane waited for his response. With every fiber of her being, she hoped silently that Korsak would take the case on her behalf. Maura was probably already pissed at her boorish behavior. The last thing Jane needed was to endure the wrath of her girlfriend's unique brand of rage upon learning that they would be leaving early to head back to BPD.

_I can imagine what she'd say, "Oh, it's okay, Jane. Go on. Do what you have to do. You clearly don't want to be here while we go through the process of starting our family. Since you don't care, I guess I'll leave some sheets and a pillow out for you on the couch."_

God, Jane thought miserably. Just the idea of that damn couch made her back spasm in response. The cold sheets and traffic from outside was like torture. If there was one thing she couldn't tolerate, it was the couch. The experience was similar to what she imagined Lucifer felt upon being kicked out of heaven to land in hell.

Korsak sighed reluctantly. "Fine, I'll handle it for you. But this is the _last_ time. If you ask me again, I'm going to have to pull rank and bring out the big stick."

"Thanks, Korsak. I really appreciate it."

"Whatever," Korsak mumbled. "What the hell have you been doing with Maura lately anyway? Both of you have been taking more time off in the last couple of months than you've taken in the last five years. Is the whole…," he lowered his voice to a near whisper, "Clementine thing still affecting her?"

Jane started to trudge back to the office. "No…umm…it's just girl stuff. Maura loves to have…uhh…," she stuttered, trying to quickly glue some bullshit together, "pap smear dates. She gets so excited to get in those stirrups and talk to the doctor about yeast infections."

"Eugh…okay, that defines an overshare but thanks for filling me in," Korsak said awkwardly. He had learned far too much about his ex-partner since their coming out last year than he'd like. "I'll leave you to it then. Oh, Frost asked me to remind you that he's supposed to be coming over to your house for dinner tonight. I'm not even going to ask why you decided to leave me out of the loop when it comes to a free home-cooked meal."

Jane smiled as she reached the door of the office. "That would be wise. It's just some business we have to deal with. Thanks again for doing this for me."

Korsak made a sound of acceptance. The phone line cut off, leaving Jane with the growing anxiety of returning back to Dr. Rose, Maura, and the ever present omnipresent force that was parenthood. It was like living in the holy trinity of stress.

Think positive, Jane thought as she started to open the door to the office.

"Jane," Maura responded, turning to look at her girlfriend as she walked back to the couch. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, Korsak called to tell me about a case. He agreed to take the case though," Jane said. She hoped Maura would see the effort she made for their family.

"That's good," Maura replied, offering a comforting caress on Jane's hand. She quickly returned her attention to the doctor. "Dr. Rose was just detailing to me about the process of pre-fertilization testing of our eggs."

"Ohh…that sounds so fun," Jane muttered sarcastically, turning away from Maura's exuberance. "But why test my eggs? I'm not the one who's going to be the gestational carrier."

The doctor nodded. Her typical maternal smile was still in place. "Just a precaution. It's better to check both in case someone decides they want to be wear the maternity dress instead."

"Of course," Maura eagerly responded. Her eyes seemed to glow in anticipation of wearing custom tailored maternity dresses and the like. There was denying her excitement.

"Yeah…ditto," Jane mumbled, looking down at the stitching in the sofa. God, can I please get out of here? Someone pull the fire alarm or something 'cause I'm dying here.

"Glad we're all on the same page." Dr. Rose stood up from her desk to make her way toward the two women. "When testing is complete, I'll get back to you. From now on, you two both have complete access to me and my services. At any time, feel free to call me. Unless I'm in surgery or delivery, I'll definitely answer."

Maura moved to stand up and Jane followed reluctantly. "I will. As soon as we hear from the sperm donor, I'll tell him to call."

"Here," Dr. Rose said, taking out a couple of conservatively colored business cards. "Give him my card. The extensions for the sperm bank are on there. The sooner we can get him on board the better."

Maura nodded. "Thank you, Dr. Rose. I know how busy you are, but you're the best OB/GYN on the East Coast. We are beyond happy that you managed to squeeze us in."

"I'm always glad to help couples of all types conceive." Dr. Rose moved to shake their hands. "I can assure you that in nine months' time, we'll be welcoming a little bundle of joy into the world."

Upon returning the handshake, Jane moved to open the door for Maura. No words were spoken as the two women began the short walk back to the parking garage used for both Boston General and the attached birthing center's patients and guests. The only sound accompanying their steps was the familiar staccato beat of their heels against the smooth concrete floor.

As they turned the corner toward where Jane parked Maura's new car, an Aston Martin Rapide, the brunette still managed to salivate at the sleek, sexy lines of the machine. Maura had bought the black four-door grand tourer for the ease of transporting a child after trading in the DB9. Originally she had been depressed to watch the red sports car leave their family but, after taking the new purchase out for a test drive, it had quickly dissipated.

The sleek black lines of the beautiful machine seemed to be shaped by the wind, beckoning her with the same understated sexiness and luxury Maura had developed throughout her thirty-nine years of life. A smile crossed Jane's lips at the memory of her blazing down the freeway with the blonde in the passenger seat when they first bought the car a couple of months ago. She had been screaming at her to slow down, as usual, but the detective had ignored her, too absorbed in the alluring speed of their new purchase.

Jane couldn't wait to see Frost's expression when he saw this baby sitting in Maura's spot at BPD. He loved exotic sports cars almost as much as she did. Even more so after Frost had switched places with the blonde when she had went to racing school. They had been keeping the car under wraps for the time being, not wanting anyone to ask Maura – the only woman in the world who can't lie to save her life – any awkward questions that she couldn't answer, but she knew her partner would shit gold bricks when he saw the Aston.

"Jane, instead of drooling we could be leaving. Just a thought," Maura said, grabbing the keys from her motionless girlfriend's hand. "I've got to stop by the store to pick up some eggplant for tonight."

Jane narrowed her eyes before moving to open the door for Maura. "And that means I can't drive?"

"Jane," Maura pleaded, smiling. "I want to get there, not race there."

"I don't race…"

Maura rolled her eyes. "Your idea of going slow is going ten miles per hour over the speed limit. And we all know you don't like to go slow."

"Well maybe the speed limit shouldn't be so damn slow."

"Not everyone thinks 65 miles per hour is slow."

With an angry huff, Jane closed the door behind Maura as she got in the car. A fraction of a second later, she had gotten in the passenger seat, adjusting it slightly for her height before buckling up. After pushing the ignition button, the blonde slowly began to ease out of the parking spot, gliding into the late afternoon traffic of West End.

As Maura concentrated her focus on the road, Jane had to endure the silence that weighed down upon the couple. Driving in Boston was a full time task that required absolute focus, but Jane found the silence to be unbearable. It was right up there with sleeping on the dreaded couch…and the pink canopy…and tomato soup.

Maura better say something before I go crazy, Jane thought irritably, looking over at her girlfriend out the corner of her eyes.

As if right on cue, Maura saw her giving her the evil eye and smiled. "Jane?"

_I know you're pissed at my rudeness in there but…I'm just not sure I can do this. Having a child is like the biggest step in a woman's life. I'm not ready for that kind of step. I don't know if I'll ever be ready, Maura. Please don't hate me…_

"Yeah?" Jane managed to squeak out, waiting for Maura's reply that would require her to speak those dreaded thoughts.

Oh god…here it comes, Jane thought miserably. The detective visibly cringed in expectation for the inevitable.

"I forgot to ask if parmigiana is good for tonight. Frost told me he didn't mind, but I know how finicky you can be about food. If it makes you feel any better, I'm using Angela's recipe so it should turn out alright."

Jane frowned. "What?"

"I'm going to do parmigiana with eggplant tonight. Why do you think I need to pick up some eggplant? Did you forget? We just talked about it, Jane."

"No, I didn't forget. Yeah, sure, eggplant is fine." The traffic broke up slightly, allowing Maura to pull into the half-empty parking lot of the Whole Foods grocery store. She parked next to a small shaded spot near a small playground with a slide and a couple of swings to keep children entertained.

"I should be a couple of minutes. You can stay in the car, if you want?" Maura suggested with a smile.

I don't get it, Jane thought as she nodded. Is Maura really going to not make a big deal out of this?

Secretly, she wished her girlfriend would call her out on her behavior, but the detective knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. If Maura had some kind of punishment up her sleeve, she was choosing to play her cards close to her chest. She'd deal with whatever came her way, whenever it decided to present itself.

The sound of childish laughter brought Jane's attention to the two small toddlers playing in the autumn leaves of the playground. Two women watch over them with a protective eye to ensure their safety. The children seemed oblivious to the slight cold in the air, their giggles endless as they attempted to toddle after each other, mostly tripping over the mass of fall leaves.

With a jealous frown, Jane gazed at the relaxed confidence of the two female caregivers. Unlike her, they probably would never have to struggle between losing their identity to pursue an unknown role of parenthood or retain their identity to lose the one thing that meant the world to the other.

Jane closed her eyes and leaned back in the black leather seat. Why can't everything be like she imagined it would be? The occasional times when she had been running a fever and was jacked up on her mother's "special" blend of cough syrup (1 tablespoon of grape flavored Robitussin and just a pinch of rum…yes, rum) her younger self had fantasized what her life would be like with a traditional family. It had seemed so much easier back then…

-/-Fantasy-/-

"Honey, I'm home!" Jane called out upon entering her two-story colonial. Dressed in a stereotypical Dick Tracy-esque black pantsuit with a leather shoulder gun holster and cockily tilted fedora, she waited for her family to reply, carefully hanging her knee-length jacket on the hook. The detective adjusted the golden badge and trusty gun situated reassuringly on her body.

Relaxing into the comforting atmosphere, Jane closed her eyes. She took in the warm smell of dinner wafting from the general direction of the kitchen. The sound of playful giggling came from upstairs in the children's room as her perfect children entertained themselves with the dog. A low growl of childish complaint from her handsome son followed by the shrill counter complaint from her lovely daughter echoed through down the staircase, bringing a warm smile to her lips.

Everything is how it should be, Jane thought, her mind finally easing down from a long day at BPD.

Suddenly, a glowing image of beauty glided from the kitchen wearing a 1950s style housewife dress and accompanying matching heels. The scarlet fabric billowed away from her lithe legs, hugging each of the woman's curves like a lover. Each step accentuated the red highlights in her golden waves of carefully coifed hair, bobbing slightly in a counterpoint to the natural rhythm of her stride. Jane couldn't take her eyes away from the sight, but something didn't seem quite right…

"Maura?" Jane asked with a raised eyebrow. "What are you doing in my childhood fantasy?"

"I'd like to know the same thing. Is this what you see me as? A housewife from the 1950s? God, you know how repressed femininity was back then? Women's roles stressed dependence on men. Back in college, I was a proponent of feminism and improving gender relations. Going back twenty years and having men control their spheres of influence, leaving me with the duties of the house wasn't exactly something I hoped for in my future love life," Maura said disdainfully. She looked down at her wardrobe with a smile. "But I am loving this dress, sweetheart. It's so light, made for dancing. The red brings out my inner tiger. Rawr."

Jane smirked. "How come every time I fantasize about you, you're always dressed with the intent to tease?"

Maura rolled her eyes with a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "Stop asking me all of these questions. This is your fantasy not mine."

"So you're saying this is my fault."

"Are you seriously bickering with me in a fantasy?" Maura asked exasperatedly. "You're absolutely ridiculous. And could you do something about our two kids and that dog? For someone who's so against having kids, your fantasy seems to be piling on the responsibility. Two kids are a lot of missed nights of sleep for us. And you know I can't stand big dogs. They give me the jeebies-heebies."

"You mean heebie-jeebies," Jane corrected. "Okay, you know what… We need a new rule. If you can't get the saying right, then just don't say it."

"How will I get it right if I don't practice, Jane? Practice makes perfect."

Jane growled in annoyance of the blonde's ability to turn a simple comment into a discussion that she had no chance of winning. She does look gorgeous with that outfit like that, Jane thought as her eyes fully absorbed her girlfriend's attire. There was no other way to say it. Maura was glowing with a humming energy normally associated with the high-octane brunette. It was unbelievably sexy.

Noticing Jane's mood shift, Maura lifted a finger, shaking it warningly in the detective's face. "No way are you going to turn this into a sexual fantasy. I like the way I look at the moment. You'll ruin it."

"Last time I checked, this is my fantasy."

Jane slowly backed them into the general direction of the kitchen, all the while the children continued to goof around upstairs, completely oblivious to the developing firestorm building downstairs between their mothers. Despite her complaints, Maura offered little resistance to her aggressive actions which, unbeknownst to the blonde (or maybe not), turned her on even more.

"I thought you didn't want me to mess up your little outfit," Jane whispered against Maura's neck after hitting the solid mass of the refrigerator. "You don't seem to mind all of a sudden."

"Why waste the energy arguing with you?" Maura said, bringing her hands up to play in a mess of loose curls. "This is your fantasy after all."

"I think I've been a bad influence on you," Jane said with faux misery.

Maura lifted an eyebrow in response.

"You're turning into a smart-ass."

"How can an ass be smart? I guess the person connected to the ass can increase or decrease their intelligence through diligent study and education-"

"Never mind," Jane sighed. "Same old Maura."

Unexpectedly, the sound of a heavy weight hitting the floor reverberated through the house with the force of a dozen battering rams. _What the hell…_

As soon as Jane managed to disentangle herself from Maura's warm embrace, a team of men dressed in all black fatigues marched into her kitchen. Two hands captured Maura before Jane could even think or act.

"Maura!" Jane screamed, trying desperately to get her girlfriend back. Several seconds of yelling and cursing later, she found herself in the same helpless position as Maura squirmed in the tight hold of the man holding her captive.

Damn it, Jane thought in frustration. Having her perfect, idyll home rampaged by SWAT was never part of her childhood fantasies.

Turning her rage to the man nearest to her, Jane grabbed her holstered gun and pointed in wildly in his direction. "What the hell is going on?"

"You have to make a choice, Rizzoli," a familiar voice echoed through the room.

"What? Who the hell are you? How dare you barge into my house and start making demands."

One of the men from the group took off his face mask to reveal his identity before stepping forward.

"Come on, Janey. Put the gun down. We don't want to have to do something you'll end up regretting," Frankie commanded softly.

Jane turned her head toward her younger brother in confusion. "Frankie? I don't understand…"

"You can't have it all, Rizzoli," the masked man who spoke first stated. "A beautiful woman that loves and adores you with all of her heart; two children that idolize you; the golden retriever; the colonial with the white picket fence and large backyard... Where does that leave your career? A detective has to be on call at all times. A mother has to be on call at all times. Those two identities are non-compatible with each other."

With anxious eyes, Jane turned to Maura for support but the blonde was looking away, waiting for the decision that must be made. "This is ridiculous. Get out of my house."

Jane made a move to push the men out but they were immovable blocks of flesh and bone, hardly moving an inch. Their dead eyes tracked her movements from the small eye slits out of their masks, subtly encouraging her to cease and desist.

"You know what, this is a fantasy. All I have to do is imagine you guys away and poof." Jane closed her eyes tight and began to mentally chant the men out of her kitchen and return back to the smooth heat of Maura's bare skin. _They aren't real. They aren't real. They aren't real._

"You finished, Rizzoli?" the masked man asked after a brief silence.

With a concerted frown, Jane peeked out of one tightly closed eye. "Oh c'mon… Why are you still here? You're ruining everything."

"You can't run away from this. It's time you make a decision."

"About what?" Jane spat out, the gun still pointed at the masked man shaking slightly in frustration. "Joining the Fraternal Order of Police?"

The man frowned, before quickly snatching the gun from her weak hand. "This is not a joke, Rizzoli. You've waited long enough. Two options, one solution."

"That's not fair. You're giving me an impossible ultimatum."

"You've given yourself an impossible ultimatum. You knew that becoming a mother as a homicide detective would require you to make this decision at some point."

Jane frowned. "You let Maura go and then I'll talk. That's the only thing I ask."

The masked man shook his head. "That would defeat the purpose of making a decision. We give you Maura and we'll leave you two to your lesbian domestic fantasy, but your badge and gun are coming with us."

Okay, now she knew these guys weren't shitting around. Her gun and badge were part of her; they made her into who she knew herself to be. The last time she was forced to give them up during the time she was sued a couple of months ago nearly broke her mentally and physically. She had managed to save herself from the brink of despair with Maura and Clementine's all-encompassing love.

_I saved myself that time; I can do it again…_ But part of her didn't want to go through that hell again. Being a homicide detective had always been her dream. When she was a small girl, Jane had seen a homicide detective giving a talk on Career Day about the joys of working as a cop in BPD. Solving puzzles, seeing dead bodies, talking to new people, and helping members of the community in immeasurable ways…everything that he said encouraged the tomboyish, slightly awkward brunette to step out from behind her wall of hair and think about her future. Jane knew from that day forward that all she wanted was to become a homicide detective and help people. To give all that up seemed like cruel and unusual punishment.

"Have you decided, Rizzoli? Which will it be? The endless rewards of parenting or the endless thrills of detective work."

In confusion, Jane looked between Maura and the masked man. "Well…"

"Jane," Maura pleaded from across the room, struggling against her captive's firm hold. "You promised you would never leave me. Stay with me. Stay with our children."

"Maura…"

"Jane, don't listen to her," Frankie begged. "Being a detective is all you know. How do you think it's going to make me feel if you leave? You're my big sister, my idol. All I've ever wanted is to be like you."

Jane turned toward her brother. "And you still can be like me."

"I can't even get into Homicide with you there. Imagine my luck with you gone," Frankie sighed. "I guess I should just get my name engraved on my locker in Patrol. God knows I'll be there for the rest of my life."

"C'mon Frankie…don't say that," Jane said. She moved toward her brother to reassure him that everything would be okay, hoping that would be enough. Frankie was like her twin, everything she did, he tried to do even better. He idolized her; saw her as the benchmark for excellence. She had never thought that her brother might think of her as an obstacle to overcome.

Suddenly, a yell came from across the room where Maura was being held. "Jane! Please…don't go."

Jane turned back to see that with each step she took toward her brother, Maura was slowly beginning to blur and fade away from her memory. The gorgeous dress and matching heels were already beginning to disappear, leaving nothing but the naked, pale body of the woman Jane knew so well. Despite the beautiful woman bared in front of everyone to see, Jane's eyes were immediately drawn toward the small flash of light coming from the red-orange, fire opal ring on Maura's left ring finger, a symbol of their endless love for each other.

_I can't leave her. I just can't._

With wavering steps, Jane began to make her way back to Maura, bringing the details of earlier back along with the sound of the children and the dog upstairs playing happily. Her nose filled with the smell of parmigiana, her heart brimming with love.

"Jane," the masked man said. "You realize what you're doing?"

Feeling slightly off-balance, Jane stops mid-step to notice that her gun and badge are disappearing with each step she takes toward Maura. A tickling sensation came to her eyes followed by the warm trails of tears as her mind tried to process that she was giving up her identity. No more Detective Jane Rizzoli. Now it's just Mrs. Jane Rizzoli-Isles. Eugh…it doesn't even roll of the tongue the same way.

_Detective Jane Rizzoli has gravitas. Mrs. Jane Rizzoli-Isles makes me think…mom jeans, the never-ending spit-up stains on my favorite shirts, and forced smiles at three hour long recitals/athletic events. That sounds like a punishment, not a reward._

"Jane…"

"Janey…"

In absolute bewilderment, Jane looked between her brother and her lover, completely stuck in the middle. Despite being used to making decisions like this at work, it was a whole other thing to make a decision like this when it directly involved your own livelihood.

"Jane!"

-/-End Fantasy-/-

"Jane! Are you okay?"

In confusion, Jane quickly opened her eyes and noticed that she was still in the leather seats of the Aston. She turned to look at Maura who seemed genuinely worried for her girlfriend's well being.

"What time is it?" Jane asked, looking around the car with wild eyes. "Where's your dress?"

Maura tilted her head. "It's only been ten minutes. The line was a little long. And what are you talking about? I wasn't wearing a dress."

"Oh…," Jane mumbled, before shaking her head in an effort to separate herself from the fantasy and reality. "Uh…did you get your eggplant?"

"Yeah, they had a sale. Two for the price of one." Maura moved to give her girlfriend a comforting caress on the shoulder upon seeing the fear still running rampant in her brown eyes. "Are you sure you're alright, honey? It's not like you to take a nap in the middle of the day. Your batteries are solar powered."

Jane cleared her throat. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just feeling a little…anxious."

Maura started up the Aston to drive back home. "Don't worry, Jane. Everything is going to be alright. Before you know it, the baby will be here. You'll feel less anxious when a bond develops."

Yeah right, Jane thought miserably, turning her attention to the swirling blur of orange and yellow sky reflected in the tinted passenger window. The closer they got to conception, the more these dreams would continue to haunt her.


	2. Chapter 2

-/-/- Chapter 2 -/-/-

Back at the Rizzoli-Isles home, Jane and Maura sat at the dining room table, staring at Detective Frost expectantly as he finished up the chocolate soufflé on his plate. He was oblivious to the awkward stares from his partner and her girlfriend, seemingly more focused on reveling in the sweet, chocolate treat. With a moan of satisfaction, Frost's eyes closed as he slowly savored the last bite of the soufflé.

Despite knowing she should be more patient, Jane couldn't stop the anxiety from expressing itself in the jig her feet had decided to take up underneath the dining room table. The brunette looked between Maura and Frost, trying everything in her power to get them to stop pussyfooting around the elephant in the room. Everything hinged on his answer. She had to know whether her life would change in a way she had never foreseen in her future. _C'mon, Maura…ask him already._

With a slight shake of his head, Frost opened his eyes with a smile. "This is fantastic, Maura. I haven't tasted a soufflé this good since the time my dad shipped me off to Italy during one of his deployments."

"Oh, stop it," Maura said bashfully. She blushed slightly with the praise. "My mother is the one you should be thanking. That chocolate soufflé is her recipe, not mine."

"No, you were the one who made it. Your mom might have provided the recipe but you executed it perfectly."

"Flatterer," Maura beamed.

"You know, I've never had a fondness for French food. How you got me to enjoy this soufflé, I have no idea. My time in Japan as a kid made me partial to Asian cuisine."

Maura clapped her hands in excitement. "We can have Asian night here at the house sometime. I know several chefs with a specialty in Japanese cuisine. They'd be happy to come by and give us a private tasting session."

"Oh that sounds fun-"

Suddenly, Jane struck her fist on the table with enough force that the filigreed tableware clinked loudly in response. Both Maura and Frost turned their attention to the annoyed detective as if they had forgotten she had been there all along given how quiet the normally rambunctious detective had been all throughout the meal.

"Maura," Jane growled inconspicuously. "We didn't invite him here to talk about his preferences for food. Ask him already."

"But maybe we should wait?" Maura whispered back.

"Wait for what? We're not telling him he has cancer. Do it before I turn grey with age."

Maura frowned. "Hair can also turn grey with stress or genetics."

"Maura…"

"Um…ladies," Frost interjected calmly with an amused face. "Why don't you just ask me what you need to ask? We all work around death on a daily basis. I think I can handle pretty much anything at this point."

With embarrassed looks, the two women stared awkwardly at each other, unsure of how to proceed. For all of her earlier excitement to finally be in position to ask him, Maura seemed to have turned meek and submissive all of sudden, requiring Jane to reluctantly take up the slack. _Thanks for the support, honey. Really, it's great to know that you'll have my back when the going gets rough._

"Is your offer still on the table?" Jane said. She was surprised at how much conviction she had managed to inject into her words given the lack of conviction she actually felt.

Frost leaned back in his chair, confusion written on his face. "What offer? Are you talking about when I said I'd go streaking across BPD with you? Because, honestly, I just said that as hypothetical yes to a hypothetical scenario. I don't really want to run around naked with you…well, I wouldn't mind it if the opportunity came up." He narrowed his eyes in thought. "That came out all wrong."

Jane sighed, wishing she didn't have to spell it out for him. "Remember when Maura and I had that big party at Constance's house?"

"Of course," Frost smiled. "I got way too many phone numbers that night. Apparently I look quite dapper in white-tie. But Frankie found them in my wallet and burned them before I could call any of them up. I cried myself to sleep after that."

"Well…do you remember talking to Maura about being," Jane coughed as her throat inexplicably closed, "our sperm donor? If you're still interested…we'd love it if you'd like to help us out with…having a child. But if the offer is off the table then we'd understand."

"Okay."

Jane and Maura both went slack-jawed in amazement. "Okay?" they asked in unison.

"That's what I said," Frost said. He cradled his wine glass in the palm of his hand, enjoying the silence that came with his words. The young man took a sip of the remaining zinfandel still swirling in its depths, grinning like a madman at the magnificent way the heady but sweet flavors flooded his palate. "Of course I wouldn't mind to be your sperm donor. Actually, in all honesty, I'm a little shocked you two are going to go forward with having a child, but I don't doubt that baby is going to have all of the love in the world between the two of you. I'd be honored to contribute."

Maura leaned forward in her chair. "Are you sure about this? If you're doing this because of some misbegotten partner rule of ethics then I suggest you reevaluate your decision."

"I have thought about it. This is what I want to do for the two of you, not because of my partnership with Jane." With a frown, Frost set the wine glass back down, looking up at the two women. "But, if you don't mind me asking, why did you even remember my offer in the first place? I mean I'm flattered but still… I'm sure a sperm bank could procure some Brad Pitt or Einstein in their vaults. Compare my genetic material to that, and I fall kind of short."

Maura gasped in shock. "Don't say that. You have very attractive genetic material. It's just…I know what's it's like to not know who your father is, to always wonder who he is. I don't want my child to go through that kind of confusion and pain.

"Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not asking for you to take up parental responsibility. Jane and I both want a donor that can be there to talk or hang out, if and when the child decides it's the right time to do so. Oh my god, I'm rambling, aren't I?"

"You do it so well, honey. Keep going. You're doing great," Jane said sarcastically. The comment quickly earned her a kick in the shin. "Owwch…you better stop doing that. Technically, that's abuse. You know, I could develop battered wife syndrome. I saw it on a rerun of the Dr. Phil last week."

"The day you have battered wife syndrome is the day I start playing golf professionally," Maura said with an eye roll.

As the two women proceeded to bicker about Maura's chances of playing golf at a professional level, Frost watched the two women as if enjoying a tennis match between two sisters. They knew each other's game like the back of their hand but insisted on doing this game each and every time they could. I wonder what they get out of it, Frost contemplated.

Sending an unexpected shock through his leg, Frost felt the sudden vibration of his cell phone buzzing in his pants pocket. He took out the small device and saw Frankie's picture and the text-speak "ey whr u ! D clippers r abt2 gt their (_!_) kickd" flashing across the touchscreen.

"I hate to interrupt World War XL, but Frankie is getting on me about remembering to show up for the basketball game tonight. I bet him 100 dollars the Clippers wouldn't lose. Knowing him, he's praying to the patron saint of luck right now 'cause there is no way the Clippers are going to lose to the Spurs."

Frost started to get up and made his way to the door. Maura quickly stopped him before he could have a chance to leave.

"Wait!" Maura exclaimed while grabbing a business card from off her desk. "Whenever you're ready to…do the deed, our doctor has already set up an appointment at the sperm bank for you to come in and…ejaculate in a plastic cup."

"Eugh, vomit!" Jane cried out in disgust. "Maura, c'mon. This is not a locker room at a football game."

Maura looked over at her girlfriend with an apologetic look. "Sorry," she said. The blonde turned her attention back to Frost. "The number is on the card."

"I'll get right on it. Cavanaugh is supposed to let me have some time off tomorrow. I'll try to get it done then so you two aren't waiting on me." Frost took the card and carefully put it in his wallet next to his driver's license. "So…am I going to be the child's godfather?"

Maura tilted her head in confusion. "Do you want to be?"

"Kind of, yeah," Frost replied, blushing.

"You have every right to be. That's the least we can give you," Maura said. "It's not Jane has anyone else in mind for the position and I'm not particularly religious so…congratulations. Welcome to the family, Frost. Should we do a group hug?"

"Or maybe a blood pact?" Jane asked sarcastically, earning her another bout of physical abuse.

Frost gave a big smile to their playful bickering which brought a similar smile to Maura's own face. "Do you think I should tell my mom about this?"

"I would," Maura shrugged. "Having a genetic grandson who's being raised by two lesbians you work with on the ground is usually something worth discussing."

"Why do I have a feeling this is going to be one really awkward conversation…"

"I wouldn't worry about it," Maura said encouragingly. "She'll understand. I'm sure of it."

"Thanks," Frost said. "The dinner was great. See you tomorrow, Jane."

After Maura walked Frost out, Jane sighed heavily. She began to slowly start the process of cleaning up all of the dirty dishes from the dinner. Normally she would have let Maura handle the cleaning given how much better she was at housekeeping, but Jane needed something to take her mind off of everything beginning to pile up in her head.

Did you have to say yes, Frost? Jane asked silently, wishing there was a rewind option in her life. Having a baby before now had just been a relatively improbable fantasy. She knew about all of the pre-fertilization steps couples had to take. Dr. Rose had even said that some couples could take years before they got to the actual sperm meets egg process. Secretly, Jane had hoped to be in that category in order to get her feelings in order.

_Ready or not, here comes baby…_

In frustration, Jane angrily rinsed off the dishes before she all but threw the expensive dishes and silverware into the dishwasher. Her hands shook as she slammed the door closed and proceeded to tap in the instructions for the washing process.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, Jane released yet another sigh as her eyes closed in exhaustion. "Hey, there big guy upstairs," she whispered to the God she hadn't talked to since the whole mess with Clementine. "It's been awhile. I know I should go to church more, but your win-loss ratio hasn't been so hot lately. I'm sure you remember that little bundle me and Maura were infatuated with. I hope she's doing well up there. Probably entertaining you and St. Peter with her cute giggles. Well, anyway, you're haven't given me a lot of confidence in your abilities to guide. So…what do you think about this? Maura and I being mommy dearest to a helpless bundle of tears and giggles. Do you think I can handle that? Cause you know what? I don't really think I'm up to the challenge."

"Up to what challenge, honey?"

Jane quickly opened her eyes to see Maura coming back into the house. With a smile that hadn't left her face since Frost agreeing to be their donor, she made her way toward the kitchen island with a stack of mail that she had taken off her desk.

"Nothing," Jane said. Her lackluster attempt at cracking a smile was plainly obvious. "Just talking to the dishwasher about all of these dirty dishes I crammed in there." The detective moved to join Maura as she looked through the mail. "Anything that's not junk in there? I swear Boston has us on a mailing list for stupid shit that doesn't work. You know lesbians, they're gullible and willing to sign up for," Jane grabbed a brightly designed envelope from the stack, "the Publisher's Clearing House Prize? Who still signs up for that? Probably the same people that watch the "Prize is Right" on a daily basis."

"You mean Angela?" Maura asked disinterestedly, sorting the mail into stacks of bills, letters, and whatnot.

"I hope not," Jane replied with a smirk at the idea of her mother winning the Publisher Clearing House Prize. "She'd never let me live that down."

After Maura had carefully organized the pile of mail into piles, Jane noticed one letter with the word urgent marked on it along with several odd looking symbols isolated from the piles. The blonde stared down at the envelope with unseeing eyes as if trying to will its contents into her mind without having to open it.

In confusion, Jane grabbed it off the table with a frown. "What's this? UPS lost your Givenchy blouse?"

"No…it's Clementine," Maura shook her head to correct herself, "I mean, Suki's parents from Japan."

Jane's eyes nearly shot of her head as she looked dumbly between both the envelope and her girlfriend, unsure of how to respond. It had been nearly three months since Clementine's death.

The child had meant a lot to them, too much, in all honesty. When she had died of unforeseen causes, it had been a large blow to take, especially with everything else that had been going on with her lawsuit. After the whole mess, Jane had decided to take Maura on some much needed recovery time out of Boston while the whole lawsuit stuff blew over.

With Eric's expert legal skills and the support of the squad, Jane had been declared innocent in the civil suit against her for murdering the son of a big media bigwig in Boston. After winning the case, the family had insisted on using their media connections to slander the detective. Both Eric and Cavanaugh had suggested for her and Maura to get out of town for a couple of weeks while BPD attempted to work some kind of out of court settlement with the family in order to put a stop on the slanderous material coming from the family's personal press corps.

Jane took the advice mainly because of Maura's clear distress over Clementine's death. She knew she could handle the media with no problem, but her girlfriend was priority numbero uno.

They had taken about 2 months off together hanging out at one of Constance's summer homes in Tahiti. It had been relaxing, some would even say blissful. With endless sunshine and patience, Maura had recovered from her bout of depression over Clementine. Jane also got to watch the blonde in a bikini as she tried to teach her – in vain – how to surf. Their schedules had mostly returned to normal – ignoring their steps to get ready for pregnancy – yet both of them had been waiting for something, anything to shatter their fragile paradise.

_And here it is. The inevitable hammer to our glass house._

"We don't have to open it," Jane said cautiously. "Let's just…burn it in the backyard. I got the matches."

Maura quickly moved to grab Jane's arm. "No, we need to stop running away from what happened. Open it."

"Are you sure?"

"Are _you_ sure?"

With a sigh, Jane opened the envelope and unfolded the small letter inside, causing several small pictures of a barely one-day-old, wrinkly, slightly blue baby that Jane and Maura had gotten to know as their very own Clementine.

The differences between the infant and the child they had grown to love were like night and day. If it wasn't for that trademark tuft of jet-black hair spiking up from the pictured newborn and her plushy soft cheeks, Jane would have questioned the authenticity of the photographs.

As Jane began to silently read the short letter, Maura looked over at the pictures with a maternal smile. Glowing with an energy Jane had never felt before, she started to feel the stirrings of understanding firing off in her brain.

What is it, Jane wondered, mystified by the outpouring of strange emotion coming from her girlfriend. Whatever it was, Jane wished with every fiber of her being that she could share it with Maura and experience it for herself.

_See, that's what a real mother looks like: caring, kind, and compassionate. What am I? I'm just plain, old, insensitive Jane Rizzoli without a mothering bone in her body._

"So? What does it say?" Maura asked anxiously, her fingers clutching the pictures tightly in expectation.

Jane looked up at Maura in confusion before realizing what the blonde was asking. "They just wanted to give us their thanks for sending Suki's body back to them after all that time. Her soul is at rest next to her ancestors."

"I'm so happy for them," Maura smiled, wiping a couple of tears away from her hazel eyes. "Shintoism places a large importance on afterlife."

"The family said something about a bag with an amulet in it," Jane said. She took the envelope to shake out a small, intricate pouch. "You think that's it? Am I supposed to open it?"

Maura shook her head before taking the pouch into her hands as if it was a relic to be worshipped. "You don't open it, honey. This is an _omamori_, given as a sort of protection or a sign of well-wishing on the part of the giver." She turned it around and studied the small, orange and red pouch. "I'd say this is a _kanai-anzen_, used specifically for protection of the family or to ensure a peaceful environment within the home, depending on the translation."

"So…what do you do with it? Eat it?"

Maura laughed. "It has a key chain, honey. You keep it on you. Just latch it to your book-bag."

"When's the last time you've seen me walking into BPD with a book-bag? I'm not twelve, Maura."

With an exaggerated eye roll, Maura grabbed the letter from Jane. "Then your keys, smartass. Or you could just give it to me if it's too much of a problem for you to keep it."

"That's probably best," Jane yawned tiredly. "The guys would get on me about it. I can hear it now, 'Oh, so you've got Maura writing you notes now?' That's the last thing I neither need nor want."

She laughed and waited patiently for Maura to chime in but received nothing in response other than her own echoing voice reverberating off of the walls. The small amulet in the simple pouch had captured the blonde's complete attention, leaving Jane out of the loop. Despite being annoyed at being ignored, she had to admit that there was an oddly magical quality to the pink pouch as it swung slightly from Maura's fingers.

"Maura," Jane began quietly. "You like it don't you?"

Maura looked up with a frown. "Are you sure? The letter said that the amulet should be carried by the person who found her which was technically-"

"Frankie, but I doubt he'd find much meaning in it," Jane interrupted with a smile. "Seriously, take it. Clementine latched on to you first anyway."

Maura gave a brief smile before attaching the small amulet to her jumbled mass of various keys that opened all sorts of things the detective couldn't begin to imagine. Probably a storage locker where she keeps her collection of severed heads, Jane mused.

As she started to move away from the kitchen island to place the pictures of Clementine in a safe spot until they decided what to do with them, Maura released a heavy sigh of exhaustion.

"Maybe we should wait to have a child, Jane."

Jane whipped her head back in confusion. "Maura…don't do this. We spent nearly two months healing in Tahiti. Don't think of this letter opening old wounds. Think of it as a way for Suki's family to heal just like we did."

"How can I be healed when seeing all of this just makes me so…damn miserable?" Maura cried out, tears starting to run down her face. "I still miss her."

"And that's okay," Jane reassured after walking over to grab the blonde by the shoulders. "I'd rather you miss her over being depressed."

"Do you still miss her?" Maura sniffled as Jane softly wiped the tears away.

"Of course I do but…I'm a fighter. I get over things quicker cause that's how I'm wired. You, on the other hand, are a lover."

"Is that bad?"

"It just means you're more sensitive, is all. But don't confuse all of that capacity to care for not being ready to move on with your life. Having a child is that next step, honey."

Lifting her hands up to frame Jane's face, Maura focused her watery hazel eyes on Jane's brown ones, silently willing the brunette to provide her with something, anything. "Are you sure? Tell me you're sure," she whispered weakly.

Unable to speak, Jane struggled to interpret the meaning of Maura's vague words. There were many things she could tell her that she was sure of. She was sure the Earth was round. She was sure that she knew little about the world. She was even sure that dogs could come in different colors. But she knew that Maura wanted to know whether she was sure about having a child together after everything that had happened with Clementine.

That Jane didn't have the answer to.

Every part of her wanted to say no, that they should wait until everything was perfect and she wasn't so freaked out about the whole mothering experience. But it was hardly realistic to say, "Hey, baby, let's wait until we're absolutely, positively sure about this." When has anyone ever been that sure they're ready for the act of having a constant source of worry in their lives? Jane knew the number was slim, at best. Yeah, she had some…concerns about her abilities to be a mom with Maura but doesn't every new parent doubt their parenting skills with their first child? This was normal...right?

"Yeah," Jane smiled confidently, lying through her teeth. "I'm sure. We're sure. We can do this as long as we stick it out together. You got my back and I've for damn sure got yours. You know how much love I have for your ass, Maura. It's just so…nice and round."

"You have an ass last time I checked, Jane," Maura giggled.

"Mine is like a bag of pebbles given to tourists. Yours is like the Plymouth Rock, enshrined to look at in awe. Which would you rather have? The pebbles or the Rock?"

"Well, when you put it that way…," Maura said provocatively. She wiped the last couple of warm tears away before grabbing the stacks of mail on the kitchen island. "You want me to put these on my desk down here or yours upstairs?"

Jane frowned. "So you want me to handle the balancing of checks this week?"

Maura smiled. She strolled casually toward her girlfriend to give the detective a peck on the cheek. "You know me so well."

"Is that the only reason you asked me to move in with you? So I can help out with the bookkeeping?" Jane pouted dramatically.

Wrapping the brunette in her arms, Maura blew a tendril of hair out of her face. "You're so cute when you pout. It makes your eyebrows come together. You look exactly like my old Greek professor in boarding school."

"Do I really want to look like a balding man from your school-days?"

"He was hardly balding, Jane. Dr. Nicolaides was extremely handsome. He had to be like thirty-five at the most, fairly young for professors at my boarding school. I had a tiny crush on him."

"Well isn't that fabulous?" Jane said sarcastically. "Here I am starting to get turned on and you start talking about your inspiration for your teenage wet dreams. Thanks for that, Maura."

"Then I'll stop," Maura whispered. The blonde leaned forward to give the brunette a slow, drawn out kiss, each of them enjoying yet another opportunity to explore lands forbidden to all else. All of the worry and anxiety concerning everything melted away, leaving nothing but the pure essence of their souls left for each other's private viewing.

Jane smiled against her lips. "I need more of that," she said. Her warm breath teased Maura's cool skin, creating an irresistible play of sensation that nearly brought the shorter woman to her knees.

Maura groaned in agreement. "But you know what I'd like?"

In response, Jane growled against Maura's neck as her tongue began to ever so slowly trace out indescribable patterns with the slight freckles the blonde loved to hide with her lame attempts at tanning. No matter how many times she told her that she couldn't tan, she refused to listen to reason, enjoying the sunshine every summer like it was going out of style.

The sweet yet tangy flavor of her skin always managed to get Jane's heart racing. It was uniquely Maura, both dangerous and pleasurable.

Ever since their first night together nearly three years ago, the feel of her soft skin against her rough tongue had always been like paradise to the detective. Nothing was quite like it…well, except for that other thing that involved her tongue and another particular aspect of Maura's body, but that usually came later.

Unlike Jane, Maura saw foreplay as an appetizer to a very long, drawn out affair involving several courses. When the two women came together to make love, it was a constant balancing act that was closer to a game between two friendly rivals than a fiery need to possess, even though those moments certainly presented themselves.

No matter how much the other might scream, claw, or curse in frustration, they both knew where each other's limit was. That's what made them work so well, Jane thought. In her own experience, Jane had found men to be severely lacking in the ability to push and push and push till she couldn't stand it anymore. Maura, however, understood this and exploited it for her pleasure frequently and Jane made sure to reciprocate the favor just as regularly.

Maura played with the various long, brown tendrils of Jane's luscious locks as her girlfriend proceeded to lose herself in her body. "I'd really like…"

"Mmhm…"

"If we could play Dance Central tonight."

In confusion, Jane raised her head with a raised eyebrow. "What?"

"Ohh, come on," Maura begged adorably. "It's way more fun to play with two people. Tommy played it with me when he brought TJ over."

"Yeah, because Tommy is an idiot. Dance Central is a game for people that like to," Jane stepped back from her girlfriend and began to flail her arms wildly, "make fools of themselves with an audience. Knowing him, Tommy probably felt right at home. My brother defines ROFL: reaching out to fellow losers. Did he get the high score?"

"Please," Maura continued to beg, her eyes now turning into saucers of adorableness much like the runt of a litter who knows he needs to pile on the charm in order to get adopted. "I'll do that thing with my tongue that you like. You know when I do a backbend and I go down on you while you play with my-"

Jane went slack-jawed in amazement. "Maura! What did I say about talking about the things we do that are on the black list?"

"The first rule about stuff on the black list is to not discuss things on the black list outside of the bedroom," Maura recited with a pout. "I'll do it though if you play Dance Central with me. And besides I need to work out today. We missed our acroyoga class tonight."

Thank god for small miracles, Jane thought happily. She hated doing all of that stupid nonsense in the park with a bunch of pervert men with their barely legal – and probably following the model diet aka not eating, drinking, or breathing in any kind of calories – wives. Why Maura thought it would be fun to balance her on a foot to build trust – while murdering my knees – was anyone's guess.

"Fine," Jane said reluctantly. "But only for an hour. We've got work tomorrow."

"So no black list moves tonight?"

"I'll save it for a rainy day," Jane smirked.

-/-/-/-/-

"This game is rigged," Jane managed to puff out in between choking coughs before collapsing onto the floor.

In the middle of picking the next song, Maura looked down at her sweating mass of a girlfriend with a raised eyebrow. "You won the last time when we played 'Sexy and I Know It'. Just because I happen to have more skill with 'Gangnam Style' doesn't mean the game is rigged."

"The only reason I won that time is because you put it on easy for me," Jane said, finally managing to catch her breath. "Playing that last song on hard difficulty is committing suicide. Why would anyone do this to themselves? You want to work out? Go outside and dodge cars, for all I care."

"Tommy got a high score when he played." Maura scrolled to the screen showing the top scores for the song for the entire online community, pointing to Tommy's screen-name, ConvictedFelonofLove. "He's ranked third on the online boards. I was so mad when he beat my score. It took me like two months to get on the leader ranks. It only took him twenty minutes."

After looking through the list for Maura's ranking – eighth in the entire world –, Jane frowned. "So where am I at on the boards?"

"Umm…I don't think we need to look for your name," Maura said cautiously and sweetly. She quickly began to head out of the room. "You know what sounds really good right now? Mocha and mint ice cream. Want some, honey? I remembered to get it separated instead of swirled this time."

"No, I don't want ice cream. I want to see my rank. Show me my rank, Maura."

With a shake of her head, Maura made her way back to the television. With several downward swipes, the blonde found Jane's extremely low rank near the bottom of the list. Despite the low score, knowing how competitive her girlfriend could be, she attempted to raise her lover's sour mood.

"Well…you beat three other people. That's good. We all start somewhere," she encouraged with a beaming smile.

"Totally rigged," Jane muttered, her eyes narrowed at the screen. "I'm nearly 5' 10 playing a game meant for those with professional choreography and or dance training. When's the last time you saw someone of my height doing professional dance?"

"Ballet dancers can be fairly tall given the preference for skinny, lithe, leggy types."

"Maura…not what I want to hear right now."

Maura nodded sympathetically. "You are so right, Jane. We should sue the developers for discrimination against those whose height prevents them from having rhythm and coordination. This kind of inconsiderate behavior shouldn't be tolerated."

Hearing the blonde's clear sarcastic slant to her tone, Jane grabbed a couch from the sofa behind her and threw it in the general direction of her face. From across the room, Maura caught the small pillow easily before walking back to the brunette's spot on the floor and hitting her with the pillow.

"I was trying to be nice," Maura pouted dramatically, her normally hazel eyes turning light brown in the dimmed light of the upstairs game room.

Jane quickly grabbed another pillow off the couch to defend herself from her girlfriend's continuing playful assault. "Don't lie. It's unbecoming."

"Stop being so competitive then."

With a sudden burst of strength, Jane flipped Maura on her back before she could offer any form of complaint. The blonde looked up at the detective, enjoying the predatory look she found nearly hidden in a wave of wild, brown curls.

Maura lifted a hand in utter amazement of the beautiful woman on display just for her. "I love it when you do that."

"Do what?" Jane growled out, her eyes already starting to kindle a flame in expectation.

"When you get into your superhero persona. That gotta conquer and pilfer little ol' me attitude is beyond sexy."

Jane narrowed her eyes in thought. "You sneaky, little… That's why you wanted me to play that stupid game with you. To make me frustrated and take advantage of me." She made a clicking sound with her tongue. "Very naughty behavior, Dr. Isles. We've been together for nearly how long and you still manage to surprise me."

"Shut-up," Maura whispered as she pulled Jane down for a slow, thorough kiss.

Glad to let the eager blonde set the pace, Jane relaxed against Maura's soft lips before opening her mouth to encourage further exploration. The woman knew every aspect of her body but each time always felt like the first time. If it ain't broke, Jane thought with a smile, secretly wondering when would making love to Maura ever get old.

Unexpectedly, a loud vibration accompanied by a catchy pop song ringtone interrupted the two women from their task of trying to make out while stripping each other of their clothes. Jane groaned in annoyance, her hands already starting to slip off Maura's neon colored exercise bra.

"Damn it," Jane cursed, reluctantly lifting herself up from her girlfriend. "It's like BPD has a sixth sense for interrupting me whenever things start to get good."

"Just leave it," Maura whimpered as Jane got up to get her cellphone. "Let someone else strap their testicles on for the night."

Jane laughed. "Balls, baby. Not testicles. That just makes it sound nasty."

"Balls are technically testicles," Maura corrected. "It's been awhile since we've been in the presence of them, but you can't forget that much."

"You know what…call them whatever you want," Jane said exasperatedly. She took the phone off of the small table, pushed to the side for their painful dance-athon.

"Jane…"

"I got to take this, Maura," Jane said. The detective apologized with her eyes before turning her attention to the caller. "Rizzoli."

"It's me, Eric," he replied authoritatively. "Am I interrupting hot lesbian sex?"

With an eye roll, Jane sighed at the familiar male voice on the other end of the call.

Ten years ago, Eric had been nothing more but a talented prosecutor making a name for himself as a candidate for the district attorney's position. He was moving up and Jane had spent many hours contemplating their life together as a couple. In her typical eagerness, her mother had all but insisted on their engagement and Jane had been too young to realize that her love for him wasn't that strong to warrant eternal commitment.

But that was the past. Ever since his return, Eric had reestablished himself as a friend who she could trust with her life. If it hadn't been for him, Jane might have been making monthly reparation payments to the Tomlinson family for the rest of her life and lost her job. She owned him a lot for looking out for her twice.

"Yes," Jane said. She looked back at Maura's annoyed face. "You are. I hope you have a good reason for making my girlfriend pissed."

Eric gave a small chuckle. "My bad. She's really going to hate me now."

"Why?"

"We need to talk."

Jane narrowed her eyes. "Weiss, we're talking right now."

"In person," Eric sighed. "It's serious. It can't wait till tomorrow."

Hearing the excitement in his voice, Jane closed her eyes, contemplating whether to go along with Eric on this. On one hand, she knew Maura was hot to trot and wouldn't appreciate being stood up but Eric wasn't the kind of man to call her with bullshit. If he said it was serious, it must be pretty damn important.

"Alright," Jane said. She chose to ignore the heavy sigh from Maura in response. "Where do you want to meet?"

"My place. You remember how to get there?"

Jane smiled. "Unless you moved since our prep meetings for the trial then yep, I remember."

"Good luck explaining this to the missus," Eric ended, the humor in his voice clearly evident.

After hanging up, Jane turned her attention to Maura, clearly annoyed at being dumped for work yet again. She moved to comfort her but the blonde was having none of it, slinking away from Jane as if she was the plague.

"Maura, listen…"

Maura shook her head before getting up from the couch, rearranging her askew workout clothing. "I know, I know. It's your job and responsibility."

"You mad?" Jane cringed, readying herself for the legendary wrath of Maura Isles.

Maura sighed. "No."

"No?"

"No."

Well, that was easy, Jane thought. A little too easy…

"I'm going to go eat some ice cream and watch 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind' with Jo and Bass." Maura made her exit out of the game room with a casual wave. "I might go to bed early tonight. Don't wake me up when you come in. And turn off the game for me before you leave."

"Umm…okay?" Jane muttered, feeling like she was the one that just got dumped.

-/-/-/-/-

After quickly changing into a pair of ratty jeans and an even rattier Motörhead sweatshirt, Jane made her way downstairs to head to Eric's house. The smell of freshly brewed coffee attracted her attention toward the kitchen where Maura was humming softly while cooking popcorn on the stove. Jo stood happily at the blonde's feet, waiting patiently for a treat and Maura's pet tortoise, Bass, stood guard on the kitchen counter, wearing his sushi shaped shell warmer.

Upon hearing the detective's sneakers shuffling on the hardwood floor, Maura turned to give her a look. "Jane… Are you really going to wear that to work?"

"It's not work," Jane said. She began to pour one of Maura's re-gifted thermoses – complete with mini skeletons and anatomy terminology…no wonder someone gave it back – with coffee. "Eric wants me to come by and figure some stuff out. It shouldn't take me long." With a frown, she looked over at the popcorn cooking on the stove. "That doesn't look like mocha and mint ice cream."

"Watching a movie without popcorn is like trying to balance chemical equations without understanding the law of conservation of mass."

Jane looked up from adding her usual two sugars with a frown. "And for those who didn't take Organic Chemistry?"

"It can't happen. Movies and popcorn go hand in hand," Maura clarified after dumping the finished popcorn in a wooden bowl, making sure a couple dropped for Jo. "You sure you want to go?"

Jane gave a small chuckle. "It's not like I have much of a choice."

Maura nodded before putting Bass on the ground to head up to their bedroom. She made a sound of realization and turned to grab one of Jane's Sam Adams in the fridge. When the blonde started to make her way toward the foyer to go upstairs, Jane swiftly blocked her.

"You gonna give me a kiss?" she pouted.

"I hadn't intended on it."

Jane's eyebrows furrowed. "Listen, if this is about work…"

"No, it's not about work, Jane," Maura said sweetly. She continued to munch away on the buttery, hot kernels. "Stop being so needy. I'll see you later tonight."

Maura pushed her girlfriend's arm away and headed upstairs with Jo and – albeit slowly – Bass following suit. There was nothing Jane could do but stare at the empty space where Maura had stood, completely dumbfounded. But then it hit her.

Over the years, Jane had learned many things about Maura since they had started their relationship but one particular aspect had always been slightly peculiar. Her girlfriend, caring as she might be, could be incredibly vindictive when she wanted to, especially when it suited her interests. She always knew how far was too far and always made sure to not cross that line but you can be damn sure she'd make your life a miserable hell until she got to that point. All of the small expressions of their love that Jane had taken for granted would be slowly taken away, leaving nothing but confusion in its place.

And that's exactly what she's doing to me now, Jane thought miserably. In the back of her mind, she had a pretty good feeling it had to do with work, despite what Maura had told her. With her time-consuming work schedule; plainly obvious anxiety over becoming a mother; and the growing unknown that came with first-time pregnancy, Jane couldn't blame her girlfriend for being a little pissed at her.

It hardly helped matters that she hadn't bothered to tell Maura her concerns, but it wasn't like she had made it easy to discuss conflicting opinions about the pregnancy. Their argument in the car after Clementine's death had made it perfectly clear to Jane how committed the blonde was to finally start their family together. No discussion. It was going to happen whether the detective was fully on board or not.

"Why can't I ever get it right with you?" Jane sighed, reluctantly making her way toward the door.


	3. Chapter 3

-/-/- Chapter 3 -/-/-

Jane knocked on the door to Eric's large, red-brick home in the Back Bay. After a couple of seconds of waiting, Eric answered in his pajamas, barely able to hide a yawn. It had been nearly three months since she had seen him at the trial but nothing had changed. The cool prosecutor still had the same sarcastic and ambitious personality except for his new grown out, wavy black hairstyle.

Well, that's different, Jane thought, unable to keep her eyes from Eric's new hairstyle. Despite how odd it looked to see him with hair, she couldn't deny that he looked more debonair than he did before.

"Maura made things difficult," Eric stated with an amused smirk as he took in Jane's harried appearance. "I'm guessing she wasn't too happy about me interrupting sexy time at Rizzoli-Isles home. And, from your face, I'd assume you're now in the doghouse and won't get any sexy time at all. Poor Jane. She just can't catch a break," he added sarcastically.

"Fuck you, Eric," Jane cursed through clenched teeth. Eric could always see right through her. She quickly pushed him out of the way to get out from the oppressive cold. "What was so important that you couldn't wait until tomorrow to tell me? It better be good or I'm going to kick you in your shin."

Before Eric could close the door and return Jane's threat, the sound of claws on the hardwood floor boomed from the general direction of the living room. She barely had time to process the noise before the droopy bundle of wrinkles had jumped up to her full height, happily greeting the detective with copious amounts of doggie kisses.

Jane laughed, lifting the exuberant basset hound up from the floor as if she was as light as feather. "And how are you, Justice? Jeez, you're getting a little obese, girl. Those legs won't be able to hold you up much longer, Jujubee."

Justice squirmed happily within her arms as Jane proceeded to scratch all of the hidden folds behind her ears that she couldn't reach. With a shake of the head, Eric made his way to the living room with Jane and Justice in tow.

"Stop calling her that. She never liked that stupid nickname. Justice is strong, powerful. Jujubee sounds like a designer dog breed like Cockatoo or Labradoodle. And I wish you wouldn't talk about her like that," Eric said. He cleaned away the numerous legal books and notepads from the sofa to give Jane a place to sit. "Unlike me, Justice is sensitive to your rude comments."

"Somehow I doubt that. You do remember that I picked her out at the rescue ten years ago. I made sure to pick a dog with similar characteristics to my own."

"And do you remember that Justice puked on you the whole ride home? Dogs don't normally puke on those they feel an affinity with."

Jane rolled her eyes before sitting down. Justice happily made her way back to her master's feet, falling asleep instantly on her long ears. A pleasant cacophony of snoring from the wrinkled mass of plush skin brought a smile to the brunette's face.

She had forgotten how much she missed the dog she used to think of as her own. After Eric left, the dog went with him. They never had a chance to say goodbye.

Eric frowned at the score for the hockey game on the screen. "Damn it, Chara. You've been on break for how many months and you come back like this? If I played like that in a game, I'd be on the bench for a while. Should have traded him to Toronto…"

"Eric," Jane warned, moving to turn the large television off. "Stop pissing around and tell me what is up."

With a slight sigh, Eric's mood shifted, his eyes darkening with intense focus. "The case ten years ago. You remember it?"

Of course I do, Jane thought. How could I not? That case had nearly ensured her early retirement. Even now, she still thought about how things could have gone if she had just played by the rules instead of being an overeager, inexperienced detective working undercover for the Drug Unit. If hadn't been for Eric's selfless actions, things could have been different for her career.

Jane nodded. "What's your point?"

"He's back," Eric said simply. "The Cisco Kid is back in town after flying underneath the radar since the trial. I want to start a joint operation to nab him, once and for all."

It had been awhile since she'd heard that name. Ten years ago, the Cisco Kid had decided to come into Boston to take advantage of the potential international transportation links with the ports. Cisco had been off the radar until his nickname had popped up in several gangs in the area, causing BPD to take notice. Little information had surfaced on the mystery leader of the drug operation coming to Boston, but BPD had decided to move forward with sending in Jane and a couple of other drug unit detectives.

Everything had gone well…until she made a rookie mistake by mishandling critical evidence in the case. There wasn't any other way to spin it: she had fucked up.

The lead prosecutor for the case, Eric Weiss, had nothing but that evidence to seal the deal and put Cisco away for life. He knew that without that evidence, the case was dead in the water. Knowing it was her fault for the screw-up, Jane had wanted to tell the judge and her superiors what she had done, knowing it would be tantamount to career suicide, but Eric had decided to bite the bullet, taking the brunt of the public outrage, knowing how much it meant to Jane to make homicide.

But it wasn't just the public that had reacted negatively. The judge for the case had reported Eric to the bar, leading to his subsequent disbarment and escape to Las Vegas. When he left, Jane had been left alone to pick up the pieces. Eric had been her safety net, fiancé, and, most importantly, her best friend. Luckily, she had met Maura in the café soon after while trying to get Stanley to give her a donut and coffee on credit in the middle of buy-bust. The goofy, smart medical examiner had quickly filled Eric's old spot in her life and Jane happily let her fill it.

"Hey, you with me?" Eric asked with a slight raise of an eyebrow.

Jane shook her head out of the cobwebs of memory hanging in her mind. "Yeah, I'm here," she said. "Listen, Eric if you want me to get on board with this, I need to know everything you know. Don't skimp on details."

"A name has come up on from some of my old CIs in Boston concerning high quality product starting to roll in from all over the globe. Los Angeles, Toronto, Moscow, Istanbul…you name a city and it's received or sent a shipment."

"What about domestically?"

"The shipments haven't been picked up on local radars yet because Cisco is still using his alias from the trial." Eric leaned forward to grab his half-empty bottle of beer. He frowned at the taste. "Bone, that's what he's going by now."

"Bone?" Jane asked in a whisper. "But it could always be a copycat. The case was a big time publicity racket. Wouldn't be too difficult to take the facts released by the media and continue in Cisco's footsteps."

After taking a swig from the lukewarm bottle of Sam Adams, he set the bottle back down on the coffee table. "His alias was never released to the media. In order for a copycat to get information like that, he or she would have had to have an inside source. You know how hard that would have been? That courtroom was locked down tighter than Fort Knox."

"But why would Cisco come back now?"

"To take advantage of Paddy's departure," Eric said matter-of-factly. "He's been gone from the local scene for about a year, leaving a power vacuum waiting to be taken advantage of. Several of my friends in the Drug Unit have told me that a lot of new faces have come into town in the last couple of months to do exactly that. It's within reason that he would follow suit to lame claim to the open territory."

Jane shook her head in disagreement. "But those are small fries. They hold little weight on an international scale. Cisco already has the power that those guys are looking to get. Why risk everything to come back to the city he nearly got burned in ten years ago? Something seems hinky to me."

With a slow nod, Eric stood up to head to the kitchen in order to pour Jane a glass of water. She tapped her fingers on the couch armrest, her mind racing with the possibility to get a second chance to take Cisco down after all these years. The whole Cisco mess had left a chapter of her life incomplete and she was determined to finish that story.

"To me too, but I want to move on this while the iron is hot," Eric said. He crossed the room again to hand the detective the glass of water. "We wait to get all of the details and I guarantee we'll miss him."

Jane nodded, swirling the water in the glass. "I don't think I can do this, Eric."

"And that's understandable. I've heard on the grapevine that the brass put you on a limited rotation for catching cases and I know how much that sucks. But this is my chance to get the man who has ruined my life and took ten years away from me," Eric said. His voice burned with a level of fire Jane had never heard from him before. It scared her with its level of intensity. "No matter how much I want to take Cisco down, though, I care about you more. Going forward with this might bring up old…decisions that we made in the past. I don't want to throw blame your way if the shit hits the fan again. If you're out, I'm out."

Jane knew exactly what Eric was subtly referring to. During the trial, Jane had tampered with evidence before it had been properly inventoried. It was a stupid kiddie mistake that had haunted her. Eric's inquiring about whether she was in or not was basically him asking for permission to reopen a Pandora's Box that she had carefully hidden away from her family and friends. Hell, even Maura didn't know. To go forward with this operation potentially meant no more secrets. Was she ready for that?

_Speaking of Maura…aren't the two of you trying to start a family together? You know? Fertilizing an egg with Frost's sperm… Eugh, thinking about is no better than saying it out loud._

Thanks consciousness for being my wake-up call, Jane thought miserably. Having a child put an unexpected damper on things. The detective knew her girlfriend better than she knew herself. If Maura was pissed now, she'd be a volcano of pure, unabashed rage when she heard that she was going to help out with an extremely dangerous operation investigating a drug lord with international ties. Part of me wants to see that and the other part is deeply concerned for my own safety, Jane mused.

But this was an opportunity that couldn't be passed up. She had to take it; she'd be a fool not to.

Jane sighed heavily, rapidly trying to put a compromise together. "I want to be on this op with you. And I can see how much you want this. But…I have to talk to Maura first."

"I keep forgetting you've got a ball and chain now," Eric joked in his usual dead-pan way, pointing at the silver engraved band on Jane's left hand. "I have to handle some things on my end regarding my CIs. It might take a minute. Call me once things have been sufficiently discussed with the missus. We'll move forward once you've got the clearance."

"Will do."

As Jane stood to get up, Eric softly pushed Justice onto to the floor. The dog huffed in complaint but quickly burrowed back into her pillow of ears. "I hope the Tomlinson family hasn't been making life miserable. I did my best to get them to cut it out. Told them we'd sue them for slander and libel. Their PR team shut up real quick after that."

Jane shrugged. "Maura and I went out of town for a couple of months so we missed the brunt of it."

Eric nodded, moving to open the door for Jane. "I'm sorry about Clementine," he said quietly. He understood the hidden meaning behind her departure.

"We're doing a lot better," Jane said dismissively. "Thanks for the concern, though."

"Good luck dealing with Maura," Eric smiled. He waved to the departing brunette in an exaggerated motion.

Jane frowned. "I'm going to need it. A lot of it."

As she made her way back to the Aston, Jane took out her cell phone. On the other end of the line, Maura picked up around the fourth ring with a sleepy hello.

"Honey, I know you're sleeping," Jane said apologetically. She aggressively opened the door to the car, wanting nothing more but to return home. "But do you think you can stay up for me? We need to talk some things out."


	4. Chapter 4

-/-Chapter 4-/-

The front door squeaked loudly as Jane tried to enter the house as quietly as possible in an effort to not wake Jo sleeping upstairs in Bass's bedroom. In annoyance, the tired detective kicked the door for being so loud, knowing that if she had just spent an hour on the weekends to fix the damn thing, it wouldn't be such an inconvenience.

"I should just take you out back and shoot you," Jane muttered to the inanimate object in the dimly lit foyer. "Damn door. I don't even know why people have doors."

The door offered no response to the brunette's displeasure, leaving Jane even more annoyed. With a heavy sigh, she walked toward the kitchen to get a much needed beer before making her way upstairs to Maura.

Throughout the whole drive back to the house, she had tried to phrase, rephrase, and re-rephrase what she was going to say concerning this whole Eric mess. In the car, everything sounded lame. Now that Jane was standing just moments away from releasing a potential firestorm upon her sanity, everything still sounded just as lame.

"Okay," Jane said. She took a swig of cold beer, the liquid courage already beginning to bolster her confidence. "What about… 'Maura, I'm going to help out with an operation that Eric is setting up to get a drug lord that got away in that trial that I never told you about ten years ago. It's really important to me so…accept it, woman.'" She released a small laugh. "Yeah, let me tell that to Maura and see who gets their ass kicked."

Jane sighed heavily, her lame attempt at humor doing little to increase her mood. There just was no getting around it. No matter how she worded it, Maura was going to kill her for even thinking to take on this responsibility given how close they were to starting a family together.

If it hadn't of been for Clementine inserting herself in their lives…she wouldn't have to deal with all of this, Jane thought ruefully. But as the thought crossed her mind, she regretted it immediately. All of the memories they had had with that cute, little thing meant a lot to the both of them.

Suddenly, the sound of playful giggling echoed from across the living room. Jane spun around in confusion, looking for the source of the familiar sound. It rose up again from the window, and before she could process what was happening, her mind took her to a memory from a lifetime ago.

-/-Flashback-/-

"Catch the ball, Clementine," Maura said in a sing-song voice. She clapped her hands enthusiastically. "Catch the ball and take it to Mommy Jane. Can you do that for Mommy Maura?"

Sitting about a stone's throne away from the blonde, Jane looked up from cleaning Red Sonja – the pet-name for her trusty gun – with an amused smile. If she didn't know any better, Maura was getting more excitement out of this "learning opportunity" than Clementine was. The baby, dressed in a red and yellow striped jumper, seemed more interested in watching Mommy Jane disassemble her gun over catching a stupid ball.

Smart kid, Jane thought, lifting her dirty hand to give Clementine's characteristic mop of black hair an affectionate tussle.

"Jane," Maura whined from across the room. "Stop confusing her with false praise. You keep patting her on the head when she doesn't follow directions. Several prominent studies from children psychologists have proven that reward inducement given to children who don't follow basic instructions creates a dangerous cycle of anti-establishmentarianism-"

"Maura, sweetheart, seriously. As soon as you start using words with more than four syllables, I slowly begin to turn my attention to anything else," Jane said jokingly. She took a screwdriver from Clementine's small, plushy hands before the curious toddler put it in her mouth. "The baby doesn't want to be treated like a dog. Why don't you read her a Clifford book in Serbian again? She liked that, remember?"

Maura pouted. "But I didn't. I can speak Serbian just fine. It's the reading part that makes me look like an idiot."

"And I like it when you look like an idiot."

"Of course you do," Maura muttered with an eye roll.

"Serious as a heart attack. I find it brings you closer to the flawed human race." Jane grabbed Clementine and stood her up on her sock covered feet. "You like it when Mommy Maura looks like an idiot, don't you?"

"Mama Maura! Baashhoop!" Clementine exclaimed, clapping her hands happily while performing a little dance with her plushy feet and arms.

With a childish sticking out of her tongue, Maura crawled over to grab the ball from the middle of the room to put it away. Jane returned the cute baby to her crawling position and continued to lubricate the various metal parts of her gun, making sure each piece was lovingly attended to. Can't have Red Sonja jacking up on me in the field, Jane thought proudly, knowing that it would never happen. Her Glock got more attention than her dog.

"Do you ever want to have kids?" Maura asked.

Jane looked up to see Maura's ass bobbing in the air while she looked around for something or other in the cabinet. Clementine seemed equally amused by the blonde's actions as she started to crawl over to her mother with nonsensical baby-talk running from her mouth.

"Do I ever want to have bibs?" Jane repeated in confusion.

After finding the small box of chocolate tea that had been pushed to the back of the shelf, Maura turned back to her girlfriend with a smile. "Not bibs, you silly Milly. Kids. Do you want to have kids?"

"I don't know," Jane said cautiously. She polished each metal piece with practiced motions. As much as she hated to admit it, cleaning her guns was one of the few repetitious activities she actually enjoyed…besides sex. "Kids tend to be great when you can pick them up for a while, cuddle their cheeks, and put them in the car to go back to Mommy when finished."

"So you wouldn't mind _renting_ a child in the future?"

Jane sighed. "It's not that I wouldn't ever want to have a child at some point with you. It's just…I'm not in a rush. I mean, with our schedules, when would the kid see us? Just before we walk out the door late at night or come back just before sunrise?"

As Maura started the water on the stove for her green tea, Clementine's big, gummy smile provoked her to grab the baby up to help her with making the tea. Giving a brief glance to the unusual shape of the teakettle, Clementine happily started to play with Maura's shoulder-length honey blonde tresses.

"Well, I have no intention to wait until the fat lady croaks."

"When the fat lady sings," Jane corrected dismissively, her attention completely focused on reassembling the gun.

"Whatever."

In about a minute, Jane popped the holster into place with a satisfying click sound. There was just something so comforting about taking a gun apart and putting it back together again. She got up and took her gun to the small safe in the hallway before returning to the kitchen to wash her hands while Maura continued to leer at the oblivious detective.

"Why are you in such a rush about kids all of a sudden? Before we decided to take Clementine in temporarily, you've never had the whole kid thing on the radar. Now you've done a total 180, bugging me about kids and adoption and what not," Jane said. She dried her hands on the hand-towel. "If this is about your biological clock ticking…"

"My what?" Maura asked with a raised eyebrow. "Unless it you are referring to the new craze women have started by inserting time-telling devices up their vaginas-"

"It's an expression, Maura! An expression," Jane said slowly, emphasizing each syllable. "It basically means when you start feeling that urge to procreate."

"Oh…well, I do feel a need to spread my fine genetics to the next generation. Any child would be lucky to have my genes, in my opinion. But that's not the only reason I've been pushing for this." Maura handed the baby off to Jane while she poured the water from the hissing teakettle into two mugs. "It might sound selfish but… I just want an opportunity to give a child everything I didn't."

Jane blew air into Clementine's face bringing the sound of baby giggles echoing through the small space. "Kids can't have everything, Maura."

"But they can have love," Maura whispered. "You know what I had? Nannies, yachts, private tutors, anything money could buy. My mother gave me everything and nothing all at the same time." The sound of clinking porcelain resounded from the counter as her hands shook from emotion. "Money can't replace a mom that knew to cut the crust off my sandwiches, make cupcakes for my teammates at fencing matches, gave me my favorite security blanket when it rained really hard during a storm. I just…really want that in my life, Jane. I want that for my child, our child."

Jane looked up in bewilderment upon hearing the emotion in her lover's voice. She was stunned, still not used to dealing with the blonde's feminine displays of emotion. What am I supposed to say to that?

"When we're ready, we can have all of that."

"You just…don't get it do you?" Maura muttered sadly before masking her face in a fake, beaming smile. "Yeah…I guess you're right, Jane. We'll have a baby when we're ready. But I can't wait forever."

-/-End Flashback-/-

A heavy sigh echoed across the kitchen as Jane reopened her eyes to the darkness of the living room, her beer long since forgotten. Maura's words hadn't seemed that important at the time; but, looking back, she could see the obvious connection between it and their fight after Clementine's death. Having a child was important to Maura, much more important than it was to Jane. It killed her to admit it, but there was no use denying it any longer.

_Maura needs to have a child in her life. I could care less._

Dumping the remaining lukewarm beer in the kitchen sink before throwing it in the recyclables bin, Jane reluctantly made her upstairs to their bedroom, knowing that Maura would be there waiting. As she trudged forward, each step served as an emphasis to her lack of a plan concerning telling her girlfriend about the operation Eric was putting together.

Damn it, Jane cursed in her head as she reached the door to their bedroom. Maybe I should just turn around and get something, anything together besides the nothing I've got…

"Jane?" Maura's mumbled voice came from behind the wooden door. "Is that you? Because if isn't you, I know DTFIPW, and I'm not afraid to use it."

_Too late…_

Jane opened the door, making sure to close it behind her quietly. "It's me, honey. And what the hell is DTFIPW?"

Maura tilted her head in confusion before placing her copy of _Doctor Zhivago_ down next to the lamp on the dresser. "Remember that class we took at the Y? The self-defense class? Well, if you had completed it instead of going to that stupid gun shooting contest with the guys you would know that DTFIPW stands for Defensive Tactics for Intelligent, Professional Women. We got a badge and everything," she said. The blonde clapped her hands enthusiastically.

"My 'stupid gun shooting contest with the guys' won me that shirt that you're currently wearing," Jane glared at her girlfriend on their bed before licking her lips suggestively. "And I see you decided to forgo Mr. Bra tonight. Good choice. I'm tired and don't want to have to work too hard."

"Is that all you think about is sex?" Maura frowned. "It's like being in a relationship with a man who has breasts and a vagina."

"So I'm a hermaphrodite?"

With an aggravated scream, Maura fell back on the bed in kicked her rainbow knee-sock covered feet in the air dramatically. Jane laughed in response to the blonde's over the top antics before chucking her shoes and clothes off.

Maura made a face as soon as she jumped in between the covers naked. "You know I hate it when you sleep naked. What if someone tries to break in?"

"Then I'll tell you to tell the intruder one of your fun facts about the rampant nature of sexually transmitted diseases in the 20th century," Jane joked, moving to turn the small bedside lamp off. "They'll be begging for mercy by the time the cops come."

"You're such an ass."

"And you're a know-it-all."

A brief silence came over the room as the two women sat underneath the warm covers, enjoying the comforting feeling of having this quiet moment together. The conversation that brimmed quietly in the background, begging for attention, could wait. They had all night, Jane thought.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Maura asked, her barely audible whisper barely heard over the slight purring sound of the fan whirring away above their heads.

Jane snuggled further into the covers. "Honey, we can do it tomorrow. I don't have to be in till 10. Plenty of time to get a quickie in."

As soon as the detective started to fall asleep, Maura reached around to her partner's hardened nipple and tweaked it. Jane immediately shot up out of bed in response.

"What the hell! C'mon, Maura, you know I don't like it when you do that. It hurts like a bitch," Jane pouted, running her hands through her tangled brown locks in frustration.

Maura moved to a sitting position, crossing her arms across her breasts. "Then stop cowshitting me and tell me what was so important that you needed me to stay up."

Deciding to let the wrong expression go, Jane sighed. "Eric's got some information on an old case."

"Okay…"

"And I want in on it."

Jane turned to gaze at her girlfriend, expecting to see the fury of a thousand suns burning in those hazel orbs she loved to study. Oh sweet Jesus, here it comes, Jane thought miserably, already preparing her defenses against the force that was an overly emotional Maura. It was a sight to behold, if you were lucky enough to be a spectator. The detective knew she wouldn't get that lucky.

"Is that all?" Maura asked calmly, her eyes still the relaxed shade of light brown. "Or is there something else?"

Jane barely managed to hide her slack-jawed reaction. "What do you mean, 'Is that all?'"

"Jane, I know you. When you smell a lead worth pursuing, you go after it with all of your heart." Maura placed her hand on her girlfriend's upper thigh. "As much as I appreciate you telling me before hand, you and I both know that you've already made a decision."

"But…," Jane stammered, unsure of how to handle this new understanding side of Maura. "This could get dangerous."

"And you're a trained, highly ranked detective. This is your job. I might hate it sometimes when you make me worry, but that's just who you are. Can't teach an old cat new tricks and all that."

_This woman…_

"Maura, when's the last time you ever saw someone teaching a cat new tricks? Or any tricks?"

"Just last week, actually," Maura said. "My old colleague is doing a behavioral study on the intelligence of felines in correspondence to their owners. She had one cat dancing. Can you believe it? Dancing, Jane. His paws were up in the air and everything. Do you think a cat could breakdance?"

With a shake of her head, Jane grabbed the blonde by the shoulders. "Maura, listen to me. This isn't just a simple one and done operation. It's probably going to take several months at the least."

"So you're not going to be able to help me with the pregnancy?"

"How come everything always has to come back to that?" Jane asked, her frustration over everything bubbling back to the surface.

Maura frowned. "Because it's important to me. I _thought_ it was important to you but your behavior lately has made me second guess that assumption." She lowered her voice. "This is what I get for attempting to guess."

"It is important to me."

"Then why have you been dragging your heels?"

Jane turned away, knowing she had been caught by her observant girlfriend. Instead of owning up to it, however, the stubborn detective reacted in her typical fashion: deflect with irrational anger.

"If you knew all of this time, why haven't you said anything? Oh, I know, you've been too focused on yourself and finally getting the one thing you want to notice my feelings."

Separating herself from the detective, Maura raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "So now little ol' selfish me is supposed to be your keeper now? I'll keep that in mind for next time we have to make a decision."

"Yeah, you should," Jane added bitterly, wishing with every fiber of her being that she could rewind their conversation. She didn't like to be a bitch to Maura, of all people, but it felt safer than acknowledging verbally that she really was on the fence about having a child.

After a brief, angry silence, Maura sighed heavily. "I didn't say anything because I trusted that when you were ready to talk to me about your concerns we would work them out together. Starting a family is a big step that you need to time to acclimate to, but I'm not going to put my life on hold because you need time to process. This is important to me, Jane. I'll totally understand if it isn't as important to you."

"It is important to me."

"You already said that," Maura smiled.

"But I'm serious, Maura," Jane said. She ran her hand through her hair, struggling to interpret her thoughts and feelings into a coherent sentence. "I want to have a child with you but…just not now."

"But why not now? We're not getting any younger. Why are you so anxious about having a child with me now and not later?"

_Should I tell her? Should I not?_

Seeing the indecision on her lover's face, Maura sighed tiredly. Given the late hour, it was rude of her to interrogate the detective after the day they had. She snuggled up behind Jane to embrace her, resting her head on her tanned shoulder. "You don't have to tell me now. Whenever you're ready, I'm here."

Jane moved her hand to play up and down the blonde's threadbare shirt. "What if I'm never ready?"

Maura laughed. "We'll truss that bridge when we get to it."

"It's cross. Cross that bridge when we get to it," Jane corrected. "But maybe we should wait."

"Wait? Wait on what? Tables?"

Jane looked at Maura blankly. "When did I ever mention tables?" She rolled her eyes. "The baby, maybe we should wait to go through the whole pregnancy process until I'm better prepared-"

"No, absolutely not," Maura commanded. "If I wait on you, I'll be fifty, grey, and completely barren. This is happening. I just hope that you'll be ready to jump on board at some point. I have no problem waiting on some things, Jane, but this is something I refuse to compromise on."

With a small peck on the cheek, Maura dropped back to the covers while Jane continued to stare at nothing in particular in the dark. For what seemed like the 100th time in their relationship, Jane was left completely baffled by her girlfriend's response to what she was sure would have caused a late-night fight. Well, that was beyond hinky. Wanting a child was one thing but wanting a child at the expense of everything else important…

_I wish I had that same kind of dedication._

Looking over at Maura's prone body, now completely hidden by her 1500 thread count sheets, Jane leaned down to press her naked body against the blonde.

"Hey, honey," Jane purred, caressing her arm teasingly. "What about, you know, what we started earlier? I could really use some lovin' right about now after confessing my feelings."

"Don't push it, Jane," Maura mumbled sleepily.

Jane nodded before moving back over to the right side of the bed. "Yeah, you're probably right. Love you."

"Love you more," the tired blonde replied before letting sleep finally overtake her.


	5. Chapter 5

-/-Chapter 5-/-

The mid-morning rays lazily streamed into BPD's half-empty homicide squad-room as all of the traditional sounds of phones ringing, detectives joking, and keyboards clacking echoed across the space. At his desk across from Jane's empty one, Frost leaned back in his chair before giving his computer an angry leer.

Korsak noticed the younger detective's expression while reading a copy of _Fishing Weekly_ and raised an eyebrow. "You keep frowning like that and you'll ruin that pretty face you care so much about."

With a sigh, Frost looked away from the computer screen after turning the device off. "It's these damn kids in China. They keep logging in, joining my raiding group, and then logging back out as soon as we get to the deepest level of the dungeon with the boss. I'm a level 30 white mage. Mages don't stand a chance against two swarms of orc-demons with white unicorn blades."

"I'm sorry?" Korsak said disinterestedly. His attention was focused on the article in front of him concerning the best fishing spots in the Pacific. The man loved fishing in catch-and-release only areas, but the odds of him actually managing to find vacation time to head out to these famous fishing holes were slim to none.

"If we had more cases, I wouldn't have to get so frustrated early in the morning." Frost grabbed his log book of open cases from his drawer, flipping to the last page. "The biggest thing that has come through here in the last month was that armed robber who murdered a couple of clerks at that bank in the Financial District. And that was an open-shut. The suspect was sitting in the hallway in shock, covered in blood, and rambling about how his mommy would be proud," he sighed, turning to the older detective. "Did you catch anything yesterday?"

"Just those two teens found OD'd at that warehouse in the North End. Just waiting on Maura to come in to confirm the obvious and Jane will handle the rest."

With a heavy sigh, Frost pointed at the mass of open homicide case folders accruing on his partner's desk. "Didn't you say you'd handle that for her? Don't you think she's already dealing with enough paperwork duty?"

"Yeah," Korsak said with a slight smile. He turned the page of his magazine casually. "I said I'd handle the write-up. She's been basically MIA for the last couple of months so she gets the short end of the stick by default."

"Funny how the rule changes to fit your needs, Old Man," Frost joked. "When I came to Homicide, didn't you say that I had to handle paperwork because I was the rookie? Shouldn't you be handing those off to Riley then?"

Korsak looked up over his magazine with a shrug. "When you get promoted, you get to make the rules, Armani. And besides, Riley is off on a call-out."

"Oh c'mon, why'd she get it?" Frost complained. "I was ready and willing."

"The call came in at zero dark thirty. She was here and you weren't. Process of elimination, Frost. You want to piss and whine about it, be my guest. But it doesn't change anything." Korsak took a long sip of the coagulated tar in his coffee mug. "You want more cases, come in earlier instead of wasting time trying to figure out which tie matches with your maroon, monogrammed cufflinks."

"Was that supposed to hurt my feelings? We all know you're just jealous of my fashion sense."

"Hey," Korsak exclaimed, placing his magazine down next to the simmering coffee. "I have fashion sense. Just because I don't put it on display like you do doesn't make me lacking."

Frost laughed heartily, causing several of the detectives in the room to shake their heads in amusement. "This coming from the guy that doesn't even know what the Style Network is."

"I don't have daughters and none of my wives watched that nonsense. How was I supposed to know they have a channel on cable for strictly fashion?"

"You mean you never saw it when you were flipping through the guide to get to the Playboy channels?" Frost asked playfully. "'Cause we all know that's the only way you'll ever see a nude woman up close. You know, cause of your advanced age and all that."

Korsak laughed sarcastically. "For someone who supposedly gets so much action, you have a lot of knowledge concerning the television habits of those who are unable to get action. Something you'd like to share with me? Single, lonely man to single, lonely man?"

"You know what…," Frost said, slightly hurt. "That's a little too far. Not to mention, not funny."

"If I was Conan O' Brien, you'd find it hilarious."

Suddenly, the sound of the elevator pinging open and the characteristic clomp-clomp of Jane's boots against the concrete floor rang through the room a millisecond before the woman in question came in. A box of warm chocolate covered donuts with sprinkles balanced on her left hand while her right hand played with a strand of hair that had gotten in her face. Besides the comforting aroma of freshly baked donuts attracting the detectives like a bee to honey, Frost noticed the slight blush coloring his partner's cheeks.

"What would Frost find hilarious if you were Conan O'Brien?" Jane asked after setting the donuts down on Riley's empty desk. "Where's Riley? Still getting snatched up by the Drug Unit? I hope not. Someone needs to send the Loo over there an angry letter to leave our detectives alone."

Frost shook his head as all of his colleagues, including Korsak, charged toward the box of warm donuts like their lives depended on it. "She got an early callout. Lucky. I'd kill for something to do around here besides," he pointed at the chaotic scene of hungry detectives attacking the box with a frown, "watching the National Geographic's special on a year spent in the wild with a pride of Homicide detectives in Boston."

Jane chuckled slightly in commiseration until she saw the mass of case folders piled on her desk. "Am I supposed to get _all_ of these done?"

Korsak looked back with a smirk, his lips covered in gooey chocolate and donut crumbs. "You've been busy doing who knows what with that girlfriend of yours. Since you weren't here to vote, you get stuck with desk duty."

"Oh c'mon, Korsak," Jane whined, dropping down in her desk chair with a heavy thump. "Those days that I've been absent were all of the paid vacation days I've been putting off for the last, oh I don't know, how many years. Am I not allowed to take a day-off?"

"If by day-off you mean 2 months plus being mostly AWOL for the last month you've been back, then yeah, you aren't allowed to take a day-off, Jane."

"I haven't been AWOL, Sergeant," Jane said, emphasizing his rank. "Maura and I just needed some breather time to get some stuff in order."

Korsak leaned in from his desk in anticipation. "What kind of stuff?"

"Unless Maura and I have suddenly become Maura, Korsak, and I, it's really none of your business. And you should wash your face, man. You look like an advertisement for gluttony," Jane lowered her voice, "which is a sin. Like a biggie sin. Not the 'I'm-sleeping-with-my-third-cousin-twice-removed' sin."

With a disapproving look, Korsak trudged off towards the bathroom as Jane released a small laugh before returning back to the small mountain of paperwork. Maybe it was just a product of her overactive imagination, but the desk literally seemed to be swaying underneath the weight. Well, this is a great start to a day, Jane thought.

"Did Maura come in today?" Frost asked quietly as his partner began to organize the case folders into piles based on priority.

Jane blushed slightly before nodding, attempting to hide her face from the young detective. "I dropped her off at her office."

With a roll of his eyes, Frost noticed the slight pinkish twinge to Jane's cheeks, knowing that the brunette was trying to hide it. "I'm sure that's the only thing that happened," he whispered sarcastically.

"I don't kiss and tell."

"If I got to sleep with Maura Isles on the regular, I wouldn't either."

Jane laughed as the two detectives began to slip into their comfortable routine. Relieved that, despite the conversation between them last night, Frost seemed unperturbed to return back to his position as her partner in the field, she relished the feeling of completeness that came with being in BPD. Even as a patrol cop, the headquarters was like a second home for her. It would be hard to give everything up to start a family, damn near impossible, really.

_Maura might accept me being a detective now, but what happens when we have to balance diaper duty with work? Will she be as accepting when I have to be on call at all hours of the night even when the baby refuses to sleep?_

She didn't have the answers to those questions which scared her just as much as having to give up her career for a child she wasn't sure she could handle.

"Hey, Jane?" Frost asked.

Interrupted from her thoughts, Jane looked up in the middle of a report she was typing up. "Hmm?"

"I called the…um…bank people," he mumbled.

Jane frowned. "Last night? Wasn't it kind of late?"

"It was automated. The machine asked for my name, phone number, whether I was setting up an appointment to deposit my…stuff and what appointment time would be best. Fairly easy process," Frost said. "That fertility clinic must be making some serious money off of making babies, Jane. You know how expensive it is to set up a HXP-3000 for automated reception during off-hours at a clinic? It's nearly 20 thousand for the unit alone-"

"When'd you make an appointment for?" Jane interrupted, her keystroke stopping upon the ampersand key.

"Four. Hopefully I should get off work on time today." Frost looked around at the ghost town that had become the squad room after the donuts had been rampaged, leaving nothing but a shredded box in their wake. "And the way things are looking, it shouldn't be a problem."

"Great…"

Frost frowned at his partner's less than excited tone. "I thought you'd be happy."

"I am happy," Jane said. She attempted to give her partner a big smile. "Maura will be pissing her pants in excitement when I tell her. Thanks for helping us out with this."

"I'm a detective, Jane. I can tell when you're trying to blow me off," Frost said. "But whatever, you can be in a bad mood. I'll just keep my excitement of becoming a godfather to myself."

Unexpectedly, Korsak came back in to the squad room with a freshly cleaned face, immediately looking between his two friends in confusion.

"What's with the little powwow?" he asked jokingly, taking a seat at his desk. "Care to let an old man in the mix?"

"No," Jane and Frost exclaimed enthusiastically.

The older man shrugged before picking up his magazine again. "No need to get all aggressive about it, ladies."

With a roll of her eyes, Jane turned her attention back to the smaller, organized piles of paperwork neatly positioned around her desk. Most of the cases were minor, hardly taking a couple of minutes to fill out reports for.

Ten minutes into the mind-numbing activity, she looked up to see that the piles were swiftly disappearing, bringing a much needed surge of happiness to the brunette's mood. As much as Jane hated to do paperwork, it was pretty damn satisfying to finish something for once instead of chucking it off to some intern or newbie.

Unexpectedly, the sound of a familiar tune echoed its way into the room, causing her and the rest of the detectives to look up with a smile.

"Hey," Jane exclaimed to the visitor clad in a patrol uniform. "How'd the game go?"

"Pretty good," Frankie said sarcastically. He threw two crisp fifties on Frost's desk. "Excluding how I lost a 100 dollar bet to a cheat."

Jane smirked. "Never bet against Frost, little brother. It'll only end in heartbreak. He did the same thing with me two years ago over my fantasy football team. I lost about a month's pay and was seriously worried about my lights being turned off."

The younger detective happily folded the bills before placing them in his wallet. "C'mon, Frankie. I told you not to make that dumb bet in the first place. The game was between the Clippers and the Spurs. If the Clippers were playing the Thunder then you would have won no problem, but playoffs aren't for a while, my friend."

"I think you cheated."

Frost laughed. "Only the loser blames the winner for his loss," he said mockingly. "Next weekend we'll watch a Pilgrims game and you can try to win your 100 back."

Frankie nodded slowly, catching a glimpse of Riley's empty desk in the corner, isolated from everyone else in the squad. "Where's the Wicked Bitch of the West?"

"Don't call her that, Frankie," Jane said authoritatively. She slapped her brother playfully on the thigh. "You call her that again and I'll have Korsak right you up for insubordination. No matter how much you do or don't like what happened, Riley…Det. Cooper is your superior. Treat her with respect."

Frankie made a small sound of disbelief. "When'd you become a hard-ass? Getting a promotion to Internal Affairs, big sis?"

"Because I know what's it like to be the new girl on a block with a ten to one male to female ratio. She's dealing with a tough time as it is, Frankie." Jane piled the finished pile of reports to a small cart for taking files downstairs to the archives. "Treat her with respect, and you'll show Cavanaugh you're ready for the big time. Keep acting like a kid and you'll get treated like one."

"Easy for you to say," Frankie pouted, gazing at the empty desk longingly. "You've made it to the Promise Land."

"And you will too. Just give it time."

With a sullen shrug, Frankie released a heavy sigh of defeat. "Sometimes I wish you were a man, Jane. That way you'd have more juice to give me a chance to show everyone that I'm a lot more than just 'Little Rizzoli' or 'Rizzoli 2.0'."

"Frankie…"

The clomping sound of boots against the floor brought everyone's attention to the young woman coming into the squad room, her eyes refusing to connect with Frankie's judgmental ones. She nodded at everyone besides Frankie before making her back to her desk to work. The silence was deafening in the room as everyone subconsciously appraised their new teammate with varying degrees of suspicion.

Jane hoped that the young woman was handling a pressure she knew far too well. A lot of female detectives that decided to rise up the ranks into a high-profile unit like Homicide never could get the footing within the male dominated world of BPD, most deciding to leave to an easier unit like Robbery or Arson. Those units were a helluva more permeable to newcomers, especially female newcomers.

Noticing that Riley was starting to feel the stares coming from her teammates, Jane coughed awkwardly. "Aren't you dedicated, Riley? Coming in for early callouts, leaving late to finish up when everyone is gone home… You'll make the rest of us oldies look bad."

With a smile, Riley looked up from her in-field memos. "It was just a domestic disturbance call from a patrol on his beat that saw a," she read from her notes in a facsimile impression of the officer in question, "'bucket of blood all over the place like it was Marilyn Manson video shoot.' I think dispatch just wanted to play a joke on us. CSU came and determined it was just pig blood," she sighed heavily. "Five minutes. It took them five minutes to report the obvious. Took me longer just to drive to and back from the crime scene."

"It happens sometimes," Jane said, nodding in understanding. It wasn't the first time she had heard that complaint. "Dispatchers can be like techies. Some are on the ball while others are in a whole different circus tent. Let me guess, the suspect made the call on himself?"

"How'd you know?"

"Cases like that happen regularly around this time of year. The weather is starting to get brisk. Nothing brings out the wackos like being cooped up in a house for days on end. It'll get even worse by Christmas when Daddy Jacob wants to buy little Sammy that big, red truck but Daddy spent all of his paycheck money on oxy or whatever illegal designer drug is in at the moment," Jane said.

The brunette turned toward Frankie and Frost with a devious smile. "Remember when we took that case the day before Christmas at that house where the guy was selling a miniature horse for extra cash? God, that was ridiculous. We had to take him in for an illegal permit to sell a farm animal in a residential facility, but the guy kept crying so hard that we had to go stop by the hospital first for an oxygen tank."

An awkward silence came over the room as Frost and Frankie did anything to be excluded in the conversation between Riley and Jane. They were squirming like children, trying everything to ignore the younger detective.

Come on guys, Jane thought exasperatedly. It's been over six months since the Riley situation. Grow up and put your man pride away.

"Guys," Jane warned. "Don't you think it was funny?"

"Yeah," Frost chuckled slightly. "Really funny."

With an angry glare between Riley and his sister, Frankie shrugged half-heartedly. "Not really," he muttered, turning away from the detectives in a huff. "I'll take these files down to archives for you. My CO won't need me for a while."

Jane watched her brother slink off in obvious defeat. She knew it was hard for him to be in the same room with Riley given everything that had occurred between them. For the first time in her life, she had no advice to give to her younger brother except to keep his chin up. He wanted to get a slot in homicide since making it through the academy. He just needed to catch a break, but Jane wasn't particularly sure where that break was going to come from.

Interrupting her thoughts, Korsak put down his magazine and started to look busy. Frost followed suit with just as much haste, leaving Jane out of the loop. She anxiously tried to get them to give her a heads up just as Cavanaugh walked into the room from his office. The man was never really truly happy to have to come out of his office for too long. Jane immediately tensed herself in preparation for news that, inevitably, would have something to do with her. Everything in BPD led back to Jane Rizzoli in some way, shape, or form. It was a just a matter of when it would.

_Damn it, this wouldn't have anything to do with Eric? How'd he move so fast on this? I haven't even given him an answer yet._

"Rizzoli, Frost, and Korsak," Cavanaugh commanded, motioning for them to follow him. "My office. Now."

The three detectives rose to their feet quickly, ignoring Riley's slight look of confusion before she returned back to her case notes. As they walked into their lieutenant's dimly lit office, Frost leaned toward his partner's ear before asking in a stage whisper, "What did you do?"

"Why do you assume it's me?"

Frost raised an eyebrow. "Because it's _always_ you."

He had a point there, Jane thought ruefully. She had seen more of the Loo's office in the last couple of years than she ever wanted to. Maybe I should carve my name into the desk like I used to do when I was stuck in detention week after week, Jane mused, the idea bringing a smile to her lips.

"I know you aren't smiling, Rizzoli," Cavanaugh said. He focused his attention on the surprised detective. "Since this all comes back to you. You care to explain yourself?"

-/-/-/-/-

Downstairs in the morgue, affectionately known as her autopsy cave by several detectives, Maura was in the process of washing her hands after another morning of back-to-back autopsies. There had been a bit of a backlog since her recent absences, but the freezer had kept the bodies safe and sound for her. Despite the chaotic mountain of paperwork that the CSU team had thrown on her empty desk, the medical examiner had handled each body's autopsy with the utmost respect and due diligence, knowing that Body #3412 was someone's father, son, nephew.

_No matter how much stuff I have to do, I'll never forget the importance of the body even when the brain has stopped firing signals and the heart ceases to beat._

With a smile, Maura made her way toward her office to take a quick lunch break. The comfortable bright pink scrubs she wore for autopsies clung to her loosely, subtly reminding her of the four remaining autopsies she needed to finish up for the day.

There was always something to do at the morgue, never a time to rest or contemplate the future. And what a future, Maura thought happily for the sixteenth time that day. Her visions of a child playing on the lawn while Jane fired up the grill for their annual Fourth of July picnic at their house; their families mingling with each other peacefully, everything absolutely perfect were like tantalizing pieces of meat to a hungry lion.

_I want that. I need it._

If everything kept continuing at their current pace, it wouldn't be long now. She would finally have a child of her own to love and cherish. They would finally have their happy ending. Yet the niggling conflict of Jane's recent apprehension toward having a child kept asserting itself in her fantasies, tainting a dream she had had for far too long.

Maura sat down at her desk and started to chew on a pencil in anxiety. Maybe she should have said something earlier to Jane about noticing her increasingly nervous behavior regarding starting a family but the medical examiner had been so focused on her own desires finally being realized that Jane just slipped under the radar. God, what kind of a girlfriend am I, Maura asked angrily, dropping her head on the desk in misery.

In the back of her mind, Maura hoped that Jane would come around to telling her where her head was so they could work it out together, but hope wasn't enough sometimes. It was inconsiderate to lose focus like that. Without Jane, Maura knew the odds of her being able to go through a pregnancy alone were slim to none. She might talk tough in the safety of their bedroom, but really the blonde was just a marshmallow when it came to reality.

Unexpectedly, the sound of Thom Yorke's "Black Swan" – another of Jane's ringtone choices – began to ring out from her purse. Maura quickly grabbed it and cleared her throat before answering.

"Hello, Dr. Isles speaking," she said enthusiastically. She felt like a piece of feces…or is shit? Damn, Maura thought, these expressions are confusing.

"Hi, Maura, it's Dr. Rose calling from the fertility center," the doctor replied. "I like to keep contact with my future mommies to make sure things are running smoothly. You'd be surprised how many future mommies and daddies decide to go a different path."

Maura gave a strangled laugh in agreement. "Really? Who knew?"

"It's a surprising statistic, but I find it wakes up prospective families out of the fantasies they might have about the joys of pregnancy."

"That's smart," Maura muttered non-committedly as the anxiety continued to build.

Dr. Rose made a small sound of agreement. "So how are you and Jane doing?

_You really don't want to know._

"Great," Maura said. She already felt the hives beginning to form on her neck in response to the lie. "We've never been better."

"That's good. Most couples have a big fight after the first appointment. So how's the prospective donor coming along? Did you have the big chat yet?"

"Yes, he agreed to be the sperm donor for us."

Dr. Rose made a small sound of happiness which brought a smile to Maura's face. "That is fabulous news, Maura. We're just moving along on this ride, aren't we? Did you finalize everything from a legal standpoint?"

"He wants to take on godfather responsibilities which we agreed too given that we want him to be involved in the child's life," Maura said. "We've already given him the sperm bank's number. He said he would probably make an appointment today or tomorrow. May I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"Will you do a genetic profile of heritable diseases on the sperm donor's sample and compare them to our own test results for our eggs? Given the risk of developing fatal disease, I'd rather have that sort of thing monitored early on just for my own sanity," Maura rambled nervously, her mind still preoccupied.

"The tests are standard with the in vitro process, Dr. Isles," the doctor said. "I've already started the fertility and genetic profiles on Jane's eggs and we're expected to start yours by this afternoon. When your sperm donor comes in, we'll start to process if his contribution is healthy and conducive to fertilization."

Maura leaned back in her chair. "How's everything looking?"

"Fantastic," Dr. Rose replied enthusiastically. "Jane's eggs are looking quite productive."

"That's great."

"We should be moving into the fertilization step soon if all goes well."

The two women talked for another couple of minutes about the finer points of the process before Dr. Rose had to politely let the blonde go because of another patient coming in for an appointment. Maura let her go and immediately felt like an idiot for not telling the doctor about her and Jane's recent…predicament. Talking about it would make her even more anxious which was the last thing she needed given everything else.

Just as Maura manages to shake her attention away from her family problems and back to the post-autopsy report of the last body she worked on, Suzy knocked quietly on the door before sticking her head in with a smile.

"Dr. Isles, we just got a couple of suspected gang members from a cop-involved shooting on the South End. It's marked high-priority by the detectives working the scene."

Maura sighed heavily, standing up to grab her white coat. "Bring them in. Tell those interns from BCU to come in and help me with the bodies."

_Looks like it is back to work. I wonder what Jane is doing…_

-/-/-/-/-

Back in Cavanaugh's office, Jane, Frost, and Korsak stood awkwardly before the lieutenant as he continued to give the brunette a fierce look of restrained fury. Despite the look directed at her, Jane was completely clueless as to the reason behind it.

"What is going on, Rizzoli?" Cavanaugh asked, motioning towards his phone. "And don't tell me you have nothing to do with it. Do you think I like getting a not-so-pleasant phone call waiting for me from the Lieutenant of the Drug Unit in the morning, before I've had my coffee?"

Jane furrowed her eyebrows. "Sir…I'm a little confused. What does that have to do with me?"

"Apparently the feds have been poking around, asking for a case file involving a drug lord from over ten years ago," Cavanaugh said. He tapped his fingers against the wooden desk. "You and your old partner from the Drug Unit were the lead detectives working undercover on the case, Rizzoli."

"Oh…that."

"The Lieutenant is an old bowling buddy of mine. He decided to give me heads up that the FBI is looking into your case since you're under my purview," Cavanaugh said coldly. "What have you done to involve the feds?"

Damn it, Jane cursed. In typical fashion, Eric had left her to deal with the shit after throwing it up in the fan. She couldn't bullshit her way through this without looking like a complete idiot but telling her boss about what Eric had planned without the full story seemed like a big potential mess waiting to happen. There was no right way out of this. Jane had to come clean.

This is going to be fan_tas_tic, she thought sarcastically, mentally preparing herself for the blow-up that would be directed in her immediate direction.

Realizing that she still had her fellow detectives in the room, Jane coughed politely. "I don't think Frost and Korsak need to hear this."

"Well, congratulations, Detective," Cavanaugh said sarcastically. "No one really cares what you're thinking at the moment. I want to know what's going on. Korsak and Frost are irrelevant at the moment," he softened slightly before turning toward the two male detectives, "no offense."

Korsak and Frost laughed slightly. "None taken, sir," Korsak replied, choosing to ignore Frost's disapproving face.

Jane tapped him on his hand in an effort to return his focus away from his need to protect his partner. Respecting his loyalty, she didn't want him to get in trouble with Cavanaugh because of something stupid like protecting her under some misbegotten feeling of potential weakness on her part.

"An old friend asked me to help him look into an old cold case. The Cisco Kid is, supposedly, back in town. He got away from me – I mean us, BPD – back when I was still a rookie detective in the Drug Unit. Sir…I really want to get this guy."

Cavanaugh sighed heavily. "It's Eric isn't it?"

"Excuse me?"

"Eric put you up to this because he knew you wouldn't say no."

Jane frowned. "But I haven't told him yes, technically."

"You will, Rizzoli," Cavanaugh said matter-of-factly. The lieutenant's eyes darkened in frustration. "That prosecutor has some nerve going behind my back to recruit one of my detectives. And what about the feds? Is he working with them on the side?"

"I don't know what he's planning with the feds looking into my files, but I can assure you, sir, Eric didn't mean to go over your head with this. He would have told you as soon as I gave him a definitive answer." Jane leaned against the chair in front of his desk. "Cavanaugh, if you don't want me to work this case with him, I'll let it go."

With a blank stare, Cavanaugh focused his attention on his detective. "But do you want to let it go?"

"No, sir. I don't."

Suddenly, Cavanaugh turned towards Frost and Korsak. "You two need to head to the Back Bay to pick up some files regarding a cold case."

"Really?" Korsak asked, crossing his arms in silent protest. "Two detectives shouldn't be a necessary requirement for picking up files, sir."

Cavanaugh nodded. "You're right, Sergeant," he said. The lieutenant turned his attention to Frost. "Frost, head out to the Back Bay and pick the files up. Korsak, I want you to stay here and show Riley some of the backlogged cases."

"But Riley's handling a case of her own."

"Then help her out with that."

After giving each other sympathetic faces, Korsak and Frost headed out to their new assignments for the day, giving Jane a comforting pat on the back before leaving. Jane watched her comrades leave, wishing she could do the same.

"Jane," Cavanaugh began, motioning for her to sit down. "That civil suit is still wrapping up. The Tomlinson family – in particular, Lawrence – is looking for an opportunity for you to make another mistake to harp you on. The brass gave me an order to keep you on a low-visibility homicide cases until this clears up. You really think they're going to appreciate me allowing you to run around with a prosecutor to go undercover trolling for drug lords?"

Jane leaned forward. "Then don't tell them I'm doing this. Say I took an extended leave because I'm…tired."

"Tired," Cavanaugh said with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't know, okay? But I know you can come up with something." Jane ran her hand nervously through the mane of brown tangles on her head. "You know I'll never beg you for anything, Cavanaugh. This is important to me. I…this case represents a chapter in my life that I need to close before I can move on. Please, sir. I need to do this.

Cavanaugh frowned. "What is it about this case that has you so worked up?"

"Nothing," Jane said dismissively.

"Jane," Cavanaugh warned. "Everyone knows that trial ten years ago was your first big case."

"And that's all there is to know. Everything is in the case file, sir."

"I want to hear it from you, Jane."

With a heavy sigh, Jane leaned back in the chair, her hands fiddling nervously with a loose thread on her pants. "I've never told anyone besides Eric this."

"Then start slow," Cavanaugh encouraged softly, not wanting to pressure the detective into anything.

"You won't report me?"

Cavanaugh nodded. "First rule, protect your own."

"Well," Jane said sadly. She turned her attention away from the loo. "I fucked up, royally. It's important you understand that first."

-/-/-/-/-

The small courtroom in the courthouse was filled to capacity with press and all of their accoutrements. Cameras, lights, and the whispered sounds of pens against journalist notepads nearly overwhelmed the young, female detective on the stand, fiddling slightly under all of the pomp and circumstance of the biggest trial she had been a part of in her twenty-seven year life. Unknown faces blended together and fear began to build heavily in her heart.

_I don't know if I can do this…_

Out of the corner of her eye, the detective saw Eric's comforting smile beaming from the prosecutorial desk. Her fiancé had assured her that everything would be alright at trial as long as she followed his lead. She had doubts concerning the validity of that statement, considering her involvement in tampering critical evidence to the prosecution's case against the man sitting at the defense's desk.

The man they had determined was the Cisco Kid – going by the moniker, Bone, at trial – stared at her from across the room in a tasteful, cheap looking suit. His severe look was reinforced by the even more severe demeanor that came from his long, jet-black hair and the dramatic scar extending from his left cheek down to his jaw. Surrounded by his team of lawyers, Bone seemed to know that this trial was nothing more than a formality built upon flimsy evidence.

"Detective Jane Rizzoli, please take the oath before the judge," the legal aide instructed from her seat near the judge.

Jane nodded, gulping down the glass of water before her in an effort to banish her dry mouth. As she nervously ran through the legal oath required of those giving sworn testimony to the court, Jane knew that she would probably have to end up breaking it in some way given her mistake. Eric was a fabulous prosecutor – on his way to attorney general if all of those parties he dragged her to in all of those expensive dresses were any inclination – but he wasn't a magician.

Things are going to come out about what happened that night, Jane thought miserably, immediately understanding that her dream of becoming a homicide detective would die with it.

"Thank you, Detective," the judge nodded with a slight smile. "The defense may proceed with questioning."

One of Bone's legal team stands up, radiating the authority that comes with a law degree. "Thank you, ma'am. Detective Rizzoli, what is your connection to Mr. Bone?"

As Jane began to speak, a slight motion from Bone to his lead attorney brought him hurrying back to lower an ear to his client. Several echoing sounds of cameras taking pictures of the proceedings echoed through the room in expectation of a sudden development in the trial that would, hopefully, make ratings for the 8 o'clock news. Even Jane was taken aback by what Bone felt the need to say in the middle of the trial. Eric turned from appraising the jury to give Jane a slight shrug, unsure of what Bone could be planning as well.

The lead attorney made her way back from the defendant's table with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, judge," she said. The woman blushed slightly. "Our client would like to amend his name for the record as Bone. Just Bone, no mister attached, in his own words."

"That will be reflected in the transcript." The judge motions toward the court reporter typing on his stenograph, bringing a nod in understanding. "Are there any other pressing concerns the defense would like to assert before we get started?"

"No, that will be all," the attorney said. She turned her attention back to the fidgeting detective on the stand. "Would you like me to repeat the question?"

Jane shook her head with a tad bit more force than necessary. "No, ma'am. It's part of my job to remember things like that. My partner and I were on an undercover assignment as potential buyers of the various illegal drugs alleged being sold by the defendant. We asked to have a private appraisal of the product before buying it to get access to the inner workings of the drug operation in order to shut it down."

"And when was this?"

Jane frowned in thought. "About 4 months ago. August 11th."

The attorney wrote something down on her legal pad. "Continue."

"Inside the warehouse being used for the shipping of the drugs in question, we were approached by a low level assistant that directed us to our product. My partner kept him preoccupied while I looked around the facility for reconnaissance for a future raid on the facility in the near future." Jane ran her hands through her tangled curls. "Everything was going according to plan."

"And what happened after that?"

Jane sighed. "While I was doing recon, a small office grabbed my attention. My partner told me earlier to keep safe and work within my experience but I decided I could handle taking the risk."

"I'm sorry to interrupt you, Detective," the lead attorney said. She moved around the room as if she owned the room. "For the jury could you explain what you mean by 'risk'?"

"The office was on a raised platform directly facing windows. The windows were not tinted, ma'am. Going into the office put me in a prime position to be noticed by anyone within the compound who decided to look up in the right direction," Jane explained. "When we were escorted through the facility, I had noticed several armed guards all throughout the building. They could have easily have spotted me, blowing the whole operation."

With an understanding nod, the lead attorney continued to pace across the room. "So why did you do it? There must have been some reason behind a smart detective to do something so rash."

Suddenly, Eric stood up from his seat. "Objection, your honor. The issue of whether an action is or isn't rash is immaterial to this case."

"Sustained," the judge replied, turning to the lead attorney. "Rephrase councilor. This time without the unnecessary flattery, please."

"Yes, your honor," the lead attorney replied, taking a brief second to reword her question. "Why did you decide to enter the office despite knowing the potential risks involved, Detective?"

"We had been trying to get an opportunity to take this drug lord out for several months now, ma'am. I figured the potential risks were outweighed by the gains of taking the business out of operation."

For the second time, the lead attorney walked back to her legal pad to write and consult with her fellow attorneys before returning back to questioning. "And what happened next?"

"Upon entering the office, I saw a computer printing out several sheets of a manifest from a number later identified to the defendant. On the manifest, I saw several references of illegal drug products being shipped from Brazil to Boston. The same number the manifest had on it linked the defendant, Bone, with the drugs coming in from across the country that corresponded with my partner's theories that Boston was being established as a new hub of sorts for drug trafficking."

Taking a brief second to look at Eric, he did his best to assure her that she was doing perfectly. So far the defense hadn't brought up her mistake…yet.

"And what happened to this evidence?"

Jane raised an eyebrow. "It was processed and put into BPD custody for the trial," she rattled off anxiously. I haven't seen it since it was brought it back in August."

"Then can you explain how," the lead attorney walked to a small evidence desk, grabbing a small sealed bag with a burned and charred assortment of papers and holding it up for the jury to see, "this critical evidence was clearly mishandled before being processed? Can you explain this for the court, Detective?"

"No…no, I can't," Jane mumbled.

"Speak up, Detective," she asked loudly. "How did this happen? You are under oath."

Eric immediately stood up. "Objection, your honor. Badgering the witness."

With a slight frown, the judge sighed. "Overruled, Weiss. I want to hear where the defense is trying to go with this."

Eric reluctantly sat back down, clearly annoyed at his inability to prevent this potential mess before it got started. He gave his fiancée a calm, reserved look to tell her that he had everything under control before turning his attention to his legal pad, furiously scribbling legal notes to himself.

"Detective," the lead attorney commanded, walking over to hand the papers over to Jane. "Can you read this?"

Jane looked at the burnt manifest with a squint before shaking her head. "No, ma'am. I cannot."

"Then how can the prosecution comfortably say, without a doubt, that the defendant had any part in this Cisco Kid nonsense? I ask for an immediate dismissal of the charges for my client under the guise that there is no reasonable evidence that links him to any of these charges besides the testimony of a young, inexperienced detective and a bunch of circumstantial evidence."

Jane frowned. "Wait a minute. I'm not young and inexperienced."

Everyone in the courtroom, including the severe eyes of Bone, looked at the detective in confusion for her sudden outburst. Despite her random boost of bravado, everyone's eyes and cameras on her quickly deflated her confidence as she lowered her head in embarrassment.

"Well," Jane coughed slightly. "I meant to say that-"

"Detective Rizzoli, you're only 27 years old, working in the Drug Unit, the known starting location for most new detectives in BPD," the lead attorney said. "If you don't like to use labels to define yourself because you're so hip, that's your prerogative. To the law, however, you'd be considered young and inexperienced."

Before Jane could offer a weak retort, Eric stood up again, his eyes dark with renewed resolve. "Your honor, could I request a sidebar?"

The judge nodded and the defense and prosecution met at the front of judge's desk.

"Your honor," Eric whispered. "We offered the defense an opportunity to take a recreated manifest by our crime lab."

"And I specifically said no, Weiss. I can't allow a recreated manifest to come in and potentially taint the jury pool with false evidence."

Eric released a heavy sigh. "Your honor, the evidence isn't false."

"Recreated, false…they all potentially mean the same thing. Any attorney with a basic education of the law will take my allowance of the manifest into evidence as a basis for an appeal."

Resignedly, Eric nodded and headed back to his desk. As he walked back, Jane saw an odd look on his face that she couldn't quite place. What was that about? The only similar time Jane could recall him looking like that was when she told him that her ma was coming over for dinner. Eric didn't particularly have fond memories of her family, but he knew that he hardly had much choice in the matter. As he put it, "Sex can only come after entertaining."

The judge banged his gavel. "If the state has no clear evidence pertaining to the trial, I will have to agree with the defense to drop the charges."

For the third time, Eric stood up. "Your honor, the manifest's condition is directly related to my actions. I was unsure of what evidence was listed for the subsequent search and seizure of the warehouse after receiving the case from the Drug Unit. The evidence was mishandled."

_Eric? What the hell are you thinking? You know I mishandled that manifest when I picked it up and dropped it on the furnace by mistake._

With narrowed eyes, the judge leaned forward from her high perch. "You realize what you're saying, Weiss?"

"Yes, your honor," Eric said. "I submitted evidence incorrectly by not divulging this break in the chain of custody to the court."

The judge shook his head in disgust. "I declare a mistrial," she ignored the huff of frustration from the crowd, turning her attention to Eric, "and I want to see you in my chambers, immediately."

"Yes, your honor," Eric said. He collected his legal pads and laptop from the table. The expression of reluctant acceptance spoke volumes of how loyal the prosecutor was to his fiancé. He wouldn't let her burn, at least not without taking most of the damage himself.

As he walked toward the chambers of the judge to get his ass reamed by his superiors, Jane looked at her fiancé with a bewildered look. Eric shrugged, making a small salute motion with his hand.

"Eric…"

Eric smiled. "I said I'd always have your back, Janey. Can't pick and choose your battles. I'll be alright. Trust me."

Jane wanted to believe him but she knew the ramifications of Eric's taking the blame for her. Just how bad his punishment ended up being would all depend on the judge.

_Please, be easy on him. The press is already going to have a field day with a mistrial of an alleged drug lord. That's punishment enough._

-/-/-/-/-

Back in the present day, Cavanaugh shook his head at the mess Jane had managed to get herself into. Multiple thoughts ran through his mind but the most important was his detective's safety. If this story got out to the public…no one would be able to stop the brass from getting rid of Jane permanently to avoid as much backlash as possible. As much as the woman got on his nerves with her stunts and, at times, reckless behavior, he'd have a hard time finding a detective as dedicated and talented.

"So…" Jane leaned back in the uncomfortable chair, tapping her boots against the floor. "You know why I have to do this with Eric. I let him go once. It can't happen again."

Cavanaugh nodded slowly. "We all have those we'd give anything to get a second chance at."

"You'll let me go, then?"

"Have you told Maura about this?" Cavanaugh asked, ignoring Jane's question by posing one of his own.

"No, I haven't," Jane frowned. "This is a part of my life that I need to deal with on my own. There's no point worrying her about something like this."

With a quiet chuckle, Cavanaugh crossed his arms. "Same ol' Jane, I see," he said. His amused smile brought a smirk to the detective's face. No one understood how to handle her legendary penchant for being difficult like Cavanaugh. "Let me call some people first and then I'll give you my answer, Detective. You want on this case, fine. Just don't forget who your boss is before you run off making plans with a prosecutor, of all people."

"Yes, sir."

Cavanaugh looked over at a small report before turning his attention to Jane. "Riley should be finished up with her case. Go show her around the streets and help her develop some contacts."

"Yes, sir." Jane stood up from the chair, stretching her long limbs slightly to get the kinks out of her body from sitting awkwardly for so long.

As she left the room, Cavanaugh sighed heavily, taking up his departmental phone and quickly tapping out a couple of numbers. For a brief moment, the ringing echoed through the silent room until a familiar male voice answered in a professional tone.

"ADA Weiss, speaking."

"You better have a good reason to be dragging Jane into this potential cluster behind my back, Eric."


	6. Chapter 6

-/-/-Chapter 6-/-/-

The streets of Boston were a constant living, breathing stream of activity. Most tourists and visitors never had an opportunity to learn enough about the metropolitan city – too busy following the Freedom Trail tour or listening to Crispus Attucks talk about the Boston Massacre – to see the intricate web of life seething between the historic brick walls and cobblestone streets. Whitewashed Boston was a good thing, though. Most tourists didn't want little Timmy to see crack whores and prostitutes walking around, denigrating the carefully constructed Americana propaganda of the numerous museums and historical sites.

Even before she had been trained in the art of working a beat as a patrol cop, Jane had always seen what all of the tourists and most of the citizens tried to ignore. The underworld of criminal activity was alive and well in the city. You'd have to be dead to not notice. Look around and its signature was everywhere, despite BPD's efforts to "be hard on crime".

Like most detectives, Jane had stopped adhering to the nonsensical party line. It was like fighting the wind, a total waste of time unless you were a child with high hopes and no sense of reality. Crime was always going to be a factor in a big city, but instead of trying to eliminate it, she had cultivated throughout her years a list of CIs and contacts that wanted to work with her to take the real baddies off the street instead of continuing to tow the company line like the brass.

Of all of her CIs, Rondo was the most trust-worthy of the bunch. He'd do anything for his "Vanilla" and Jane made sure to keep him in her pocket for tough cases. Hopefully, he would take a liking to Riley and find her a potential CI of her own to work with.

"Hey, Cop-Lady!" the street vendor yelled out, holding out her debit card and the chocolate filled pretzels. "You going to take yo' food?"

Jane rolled her eyes, taking her food and card from the Hispanic kid with a surly face. "And that's why you've got zero customers, Cadet," she said wryly. The older detective motioned at the empty space behind her. "Yo' attitude is broke beyond all repair," Jane replied, mimicking his voice perfectly.

"Is that your way of being hip, Cop-Lady? 'Cause it ain't working." Cadet turned to Riley, standing behind the detective awkwardly. "And who's the hot piece of brown suga trying to hide off in the shadows? It's 'cause you so tall, Cop-Lady. It must be hard to find a man that's willin' to crouch for you. But I see it all the time in those bougie date-night pictures so who knows. Maybe there is a knight in shinin' armor for you out there."

Jane laughed in amusement. "Since we're talking about romance, what about you? Last time I checked in, you were going out with that girl from your Microphysics class at BCU. I know you didn't quit school on me after all that bullshit I had to deal with to get you a fair shake to get in."

Cadet frowned. "Of course not, Cop-Lady. I love my woman and school, this gig is fo' paying bills and shit. My lady has a thing for those 'Boutins. It's those hoity-toity, PC, pale folk I can't stand," he said bitterly. The young man turned his attention back to Riley. "I bet you understand, don't you, brown suga? It's the white man keeping us under his oppressive fist. We gotta break the white patriarchy down. United we stand!"

"Didn't you vote for Romney in the last election?"

Cadet made a face of disgust. "Naw, Cop-Lady. I'd die if I voted for that ol' white fart smellin' like entitlement. He probably hasn't worked a day in his life. I voted for the Libertarian party. Change is only goin' to come by breakin' the system one block at a time. You heard it first. Post that shit to yo' Facebook wall and Tweet down the house."

"Huh…okay…," Jane muttered with a shake of her head before handing Riley a pretzel. "This is my partner for the day, Cadet. She'll be working the streets and needs to know what's up before getting her feet wet."

"Partner got a name?" Cadet asked, holding out a bottle of extra-hot Tabasco sauce for the brunette to sprinkle on her pretzel.

Jane looked up from drenching the pretzel in hot sauce with a raised eyebrow. "Riley Cooper. Detective Riley Cooper," she corrected after taking a bite of the sweet, hot pretzel treat. "I want to introduce Riley to Rondo. He out roaming the range today or is he in for the night?"

Cadet shrugged. "Haven't seen him since yesterday when he got the special." He winked at Riley with a confident smirk. "The Heart Attack. Two pretzels doused in 'stuff'. Nobody knows what it is in it except the chef but he ain't talking. Literally. The dude is as mute as Helen Keller."

With a sigh, Jane finished up her pretzel and threw the trash in the can. As much as it frustrated her to do so, she had to accept that the only way she was going to find Rondo was to walk around the 'hood in the hopes of hearing his characteristic "Vanilla!" yell. Calling him was no use. His phone went right to voicemail. Riley quickly finished up her own pretzel and proceeded to follow after the leggy brunette in a brisk walk.

"Hey, Jane?"

Jane slowed down slightly to respond to the younger detective. "What do you need?"

"Do you think Frankie and Frost are treating me better?" Riley asked somewhat breathlessly, glad the pace had slowed. "Frost seems to understand a lot more than Frankie. I know he's your brother and all but…he's making things so difficult. I mean, it's hard enough trying to get everyone to see me as anything but the new girl."

"Frankie," Jane sighed. "He's still young. With time, he'll realize how immature he's been about this and move on. Getting respect from the guys in Homicide though will require a more…thorough approach."

Riley turned to the detective with a raised eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"You can't get respect without earning it, grasshopper," Jane said, smiling. "To them, you're not just the newbie; you're the newbie without balls to strap on. The guys don't know how far to push it with you so they're playing it safe. The last thing one of those oldies need is a sexual harassment charge on their jacket before they put in for retirement."

"I don't know…," Riley sighed. "Even Drug Unit wasn't this bad. Do you know how feels to…be looked at like a dog in a wheelchair? Hell, they even have me isolated at the desk in the back of the room. How am I supposed to show them I can keep up?"

While her heels continued to pound the pock-marked sidewalk, Jane looked over at the sullen younger detective. Despite her experience, the brunette still remembered her first couple of months in Homicide. Back then it was even tougher since she was the only woman in a unit that hadn't seen progesterone in the last ten years. Jane had hated the new feeling of being a small fish in a big pond, but she also hated losing even more, sticking out all of the male hazing rituals to earn her spot. Riley could do the same if she just kept her mind focused.

Deciding to raise the woman's mood, Jane released a booming laugh. "You think you have it bad? When I first got to Homicide, everyone gossiped about an old case I'd been a part of five years prior. All of the guys would constantly put me on dead-end cases that no one else wanted. Even the loo insisted on calling me Ravioli Rizzoli," she reminisced. The older detective couldn't help smiling over the humor of it all. Things really were funnier in hindsight. "And I didn't have another woman I could turn to for advice or to vent with. My ma didn't really get what I was going through and my old friends were unable to understand. But you know what?"

"What?"

"I proved to them that I wasn't ever going to quit just because they insisted on acting like assholes. They may have thought of me as a woman, but I made sure that they saw me as Detective Rizzoli, gender not included." Jane nodded toward a prostitute that she knew from her Drug Unit days. "You keep her head focused and don't ever let them see you cry. Sooner than you know it, they'll be treating you as a brother in arms."

As they reached a junction in the street, Riley looked both ways before crossing with the older detective. "I know that but… It's different in Homicide. Everyone seems to genuinely care for each other like it's a big family. Working in the Drug Unit, we didn't have that. Everyone was either coming or going on assignments. It took me nearly 2 years to learn anyone besides my loo and partner's name."

Jane nodded, her eyes keeping a subtle lookout for Rondo's familiar face. "Drug Unit is about the partner dynamic. When you're in the field, that's all you've got. Your partner is your lifeline. Homicide is different. Because of how large cases can get, partner dynamics get replaced with the needs of the team."

"But how do I make a spot on a team that's already established?" Riley asked. "There's gotta be more to it than just…waiting on my ass for something to fall out of the sky, Jane."

"Loyalty."

"Excuse me?"

"The only thing I can say to you is loyalty. If you don't have loyalty to your team, your partner, your family…then you might as well ask Cavanaugh for a transfer to somewhere easier like Robbery." Jane stopped walking and shook her head in annoyance, realizing that Rondo wasn't around. "Loyalty, determination, and heart. That's all you need to make it in Homicide. People will see all of that and make you part of the team. But that only applies if you want to be here in the first place."

Riley took out her iPhone and wrote the three attributes in her notepad, bringing a smile to Jane's face. She's so damn eager, Jane thought, watching in amusement as the younger detective put little girly symbols next to the words. It was weird to have Riley hanging onto her every word, but Jane reveled in the feeling of being a teacher. But what surprised her most was how natural it felt to provide guidance. For some odd reason, it reminded her a little bit of her time with Clementine, watching and helping the child learn new things.

Noticing how dark it had gotten, Jane made her way across the street towards the squad car. "Rondo isn't here. We're heading back."

"What will you tell Cavanaugh?"

Jane smiled. "I showed you the streets. Rondo wasn't here. Cut, print, close the gates."

As Jane opened the car door for Riley, the younger detective looked up at her with awestruck eyes. "Thanks for the advice, Jane. I don't know you manage to juggle everything in your life. The job alone is like a mystery to me but you've got time to get a man," Riley said. She was clearly in awe, pointing at the silver engraved band on Jane's left ring finger. "I'm pretty jealous."

"I don't think Maura would appreciate you calling her a man, but I've hardly got everything in order, Riley. I've got my share of problems keeping everything in line but…I always remember how lucky I am to have all of this and I work that much harder to make it work," Jane said. She purposefully ignored the look of shock on Riley's face. "Speaking of the missus, do you think you could drive back to BPD? She's been calling me for the last ten minutes. Maura can't stand not hearing my voice on the regular."

"Uhh…okay," Riley muttered before making her way to the driver's side.

_So…Jane Rizzoli is a lesbian? I thought those were just rumors…_


	7. Chapter 7

-/-/-Chapter 7-/-/-

Maura's familiar giggling resonated through Jane's tired body as she made her way back to the squad room after failing to meet Rondo. Riley had told her to go on ahead while she got a much needed hit of caffeine from the café before it closed up for the night and Jane hadn't issued a complaint. The younger woman may be a newbie, but she certainly wasn't an invalid.

As Jane made her way into the room, her heart nearly stopped at the vision of Maura, clad in an expensive tiger print top and tailored pencil skirt, standing next to Korsak, clearly focusing on telling the sergeant a story about something or other. Maura's wild flailing and expressive faces were a dead giveaway. Each exaggerated action used to tell her story made Jane melt in amusement, the love she felt for her goofy girlfriend impossible to ignore.

What an absolute idiot, Jane mused, smirking as Maura started jumping on one heeled foot with a crazy face contorted in mock pain.

"C'mon, Maura, stop playing around," Korsak said. He struggled to hold back his laughter at the blonde's display. "You guys are going to have to get married at some point. Massachusetts has legalized for a while now. Why not put a ring on it already?"

Maura sighed. "And I told you that Jane has as much chance to marry me as I do surfing on a hot bed of molten lava. Do I have to act it out for you again?"

Korsak shook his head, lifting his hands in surrender. "All I'm saying is that a big, fat, diamond ring is something every girl wants. That little promise ring she gave you," he motioned toward the fire opal ring on Maura's left ring finger, "is…cute but hardly shouts commitment."

Maura lifted her ring to the artificial light, letting the rays bounce off of the stone to create a brilliant array of multicolored hues to bounce around the ceiling. From behind them, Jane looked up at the colors and let the memories of their relationship wash over her. Nearly committing suicide to save the two people she loved; Maura's declaration of love for her in her apartment; Elias and all of the shit he constantly brought to the table; recognizing the importance of Maura in her life… That ring – albeit not the most expensive piece of jewelry in the world – represented their experiences as a couple.

_We may not be legally married, but I know she's got my back and I've got hers. That's all that I need._

With a smirk, Maura returned her gaze to Korsak. "No matter how many times we have this conversation, Korsak, the answer is always going to be the same," she said confidently. "I love Jane. Jane loves me. I don't need a piece of vellum with our names on it to validate what is already a known, well proven fact."

"I've only asked you three times."

Maura laughed. "Yeah, in the last week. Don't even get me started on all of the other times."

"I just want to go to a wedding that isn't mine for once," Korsak pouted in faux misery. "Is that too much to ask?"

"A little bit, yeah," Maura said. She couldn't help giggling at the older man's face.

As the two of them continued to laugh amongst themselves, Jane walked up behind the blonde and, before she could react, grabbed Maura in an embrace.

"My god!" Maura exclaimed, turning in Jane's arms to look at her captor. "What the hell did you do that for?"

Jane shrugged, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Just glad to see you."

The two women moved in to give each other a small kiss of greeting, but the sound of male howling and cheers forced Jane to look wildly around her in annoyance.

"Seriously? Aren't we adults?" Jane muttered, giving her comrades a disapproving glare. Everyone immediately quieted down and left the couple alone. "Last time I checked, my life isn't being used as a premise for a new reality porno."

"Girls Gone Wild: Scalpel and Handcuffs," Maura purred in a lame attempt to sound badass.

After a brief silence, Jane raised an eyebrow. "How long have you been waiting for a chance to throw that out there?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

With a smile, Jane pointed to the red hives starting to form on Maura's neck. "Maura…you've told on yourself again."

"Just a couple of weeks," Maura confessed, a pink flush coloring her cheeks. "I've been thinking about it ever since we watched that porn-"

Unexpectedly, Jane started to cough loudly, shaking her head with exaggerated motions in the general direction of a smug looking Korsak. The last thing she wanted was her ex-partner learning anything about her sexual practices.

"Documentary," Maura quickly corrected, turning to Korsak with a beaming smile. "Jane and I were watching a documentary on the social constructs established in pornography films of the 1970s. It was extremely riveting to learn more about _Deep Throat_. I can loan it to you sometime, Sergeant Korsak?"

_This woman… I swear to all that's holy, she'll be the death of my sanity._

"Maura…"

As Korsak snickered at the two women, Riley walked back in with a fresh cup of coffee. Her mood seemed uplifted from earlier, each step she took energetically took her forward to deal with whatever the world threw at her. Jane gave the younger detective a small smile which was equally returned.

"Hey, Riley," Korsak called out. "How'd the trip go? Hope Jane didn't take you to the slums like she did with the last guy."

Jane frowned. "What last guy?"

"Exactly. He lasted for a day until Jane took him on one of her 'trips' and he transferred immediately after. Some say she cut him up and drank his blood for sustenance," Korsak deadpanned.

"Oh shut up, old man," Jane teased, slapping Korsak playfully on his arm. "Instead of getting on my nerves, why don't you show Riley those backlogs?"

"It's nearly quitting time."

"A true detective never thinks of their job as over, Sergeant," Jane said mockingly.

With a roll of his eyes, Korsak started to get up, cracking his disused joints in protest. "Easy for you to say. You get to go home with Maura while I stay here manning the fort with Cooper."

"What about Frost?" Jane asked, looking around for her partner. "He hasn't come back from the Back Bay yet?"

"He finished that hours ago. Last time I called him, he said he was heading to some doctor's appointment," Korsak smiled evilly. "Maybe the kid is dying?"

Yeah, if you mean by dying, he's giving his sperm up for Maura and I to have a baby, Jane mused. As Korsak slunk toward his temporary partner for the night, Jane turned her attention back to Maura's worried face. Despite her best efforts to teach the blonde otherwise, Maura still had problems understanding the, at times, dry humor of Boston's finest. She was getting better but still took things far too seriously.

"He's kidding, Maura," Jane comforted with a smile. "Frost just went to do that…favor for us."

Like a lightning bolt, Maura's face went from concerned to ecstatic in a blink of an eye. She clapped a short rhythm with her hands before giving her girlfriend a coy smile.

"Are you finished for the day?"

"Pretty much. Why'd you ask?"

"This is a big moment for us. We should go home and celebrate."

Jane's eyes went wide in surprise. "You mean like gluten-free cake and sniffing Nutella great or popping open Dom Perignon in the bed after good sex great?"

"What do you think?" Maura asked in a sultry whisper into Jane's ear, sending shivers down the brunette's lanky frame.

_Umm…check please? Why am I still here?_

But before Jane could lock her gun in her drawer for the night, Cavanaugh poked his head out of his office door, beckoning her to him with a come-hither motion. Damn it, Jane thought miserably.

"Yes, sir," Jane replied before making a wait here motion to her girlfriend.

With a heavy sigh, she made her back into the Lieutenant's office. Even with the lights turned on, the office seemed more like a torture closet than a comfortable place to lead the unit. For the hundredth time, Jane thanked god that she didn't have juice. If she did, she'd be stuck sitting in this hellhole – literally and figuratively – watching everyone catching cases.

Cavanaugh shook his head as Jane slowly began to sit down. "It'll be quick."

"What'll be quick, sir? Did you make a decision regarding my involvement in Eric's operation yet?"

"Yes, but I don't want you to go in alone with him. After what happened 10 years ago, it wouldn't hurt to be careful and do things by the book with this wild goose chase," Cavanaugh said before noticing Maura coming out of the squad room to stand by the elevator. "You have someone waiting for you. Go. We'll talk about this in greater detail tomorrow, Rizzoli."

"But sir…"

Cavanaugh frowned. "Go, Detective."

With a heavy sigh, Jane made her way out of the door to the elevators to meet Maura near the elevators. She had no idea why the lieutenant had been so abrupt with her. It wasn't like him. Jane knew something had to be up but what it could be, she had no idea.

Maura caressed the taller woman's face with a beaming smile, her eyes brimming with love and devotion. "You alright? Nothing bad happened, I hope?"

"Nah," Jane shrugged, returning the blonde's smile as she pushed the down button. "Just can't wait to get home and get celebrating. Speaking of celebrating…do you think you could, you know, do that move with your body tonight?"

"I'm not sure I know what you mean."

Jane twitched slightly. "That _thing_ I like. You know…the one that I said we'd hold off on until a rainy day?"

"Ohh…_that_," Maura smirked. "Well, I don't know, honey."

"What? What do you mean you don't know?"

Maura turned away from the detective coquettishly. "That's not something I can just _do_, Jane. I have to limber up first. I'm not 13 anymore; I can't just do backbends whenever you say so."

"Then why pay 200 dollars per week on yoga classes?" Jane pouted. "That's an unnecessary purchase and, since I'm the assistant budgeter for the Rizzoli-Isles home, I declare an immediate veto over anymore yoga classes starting," she looked at her watch, "immediately."

Maura made an amused face. "And I declare an immediate response veto to your veto, thus making your veto null and void because of my superior status as the original owner of the home," she bantered back to the detective. "Besides, if I wasn't doing yoga at all, you would get no backbends, period. Take your arsenic, Jane."

"Take my arsenic…," Jane mumbled in confusion as the elevator binged. "You mean, 'take your poison'?"

"Isn't that what I said?"

"Uhh…no, you didn't, Maura."

Maura furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "But arsenic is a poison. Technically, my noun choice was correct."

"No, it's not," Jane argued back, holding the door open for the blonde. "That's like me going to store and buying Eggbeaters when you asked for _eggs_ to make a cake. Technically, I did bring eggs but they weren't the right kind of eggs. See what I'm trying to say?"

"But you still brought eggs," Maura exclaimed, not getting the point.

"But not the right kind of eggs!"

"But they're still eggs, honey! Eggs are eggs no matter what form of matter they come in."

In comical frustration, Jane slammed her head against the panels inside the elevator causing the door to close slowly in front of them. "We've been together for nearly four years now and you still manage to do this."

"Do what?" Maura asked innocently.

Jane sighed, turning to the blonde with a loving smile. "Nothing, sweetheart. Absolutely nothing."

Unbeknownst to the two women starting to go down on the elevator, Cavanaugh watched the two women playfully bicker with each other in their usual manner. He shook his head sadly, knowing that, from here on out, things would being moving rapidly in directions that even he couldn't even predict.

Jane should have told him sooner about her involvement in that botched mess of a case with Bone all of those years ago. If she had, maybe things wouldn't be where they are, resting on a sliver of a weak cliff, waiting for the inevitable slide down into the unfamiliar world of darkness. But it was too late now. The cliff was already starting to break. Eric's involvement, the FBI's sudden interest in Jane's past, and the sudden reentry of the Cisco Kid back into BPD's affairs were all signs of an event Cavanaugh had hoped would never happen.

_She's going to be back. It's only a matter of time._

"I hope for their sakes," Cavanaugh whispered, still staring at the empty space where Maura and Jane had been, "that doesn't happen."


	8. Chapter 8

-/-/-Chapter 8-/-/-

In a land populated by skyscrapers and corruption, a meeting of the top elite executives of yet another conglomerate was beginning to take place. The luxurious boardroom was swathed in all of the usual luxuries – wood panels that cost five-thousand dollars per panel to install; leather lined reclining office chairs; a clear floor-to-ceiling window that reflected the beauty of capitalism in all of its glory. Several assistants unobtrusively worked their way around the boardroom table, carefully refilling the glasses of the old, elite men with their usual drinks.

Despite all of the overwhelming luxury that came with being in the top ten percent tax bracket, the men shared the same look of concern. For them, luxury was a given.

"George, we told you last week that the stocks aren't going to automatically jump up in value if you go crazy and dump them," an executive sighed. He was tired of having to repeat himself to the conservative men. "You're concerned for your personal interests in the sugar plantations, which is understandable. But doing something as rash as what you're suggesting is ridiculous."

One of the executives sitting on the far side of the table shook his head in disagreement. "The only reason you're so willing to sit and wait these prices out is because your stock hasn't been hurt by this depression. George is looking out for his best interests and I can't blame him. We've all got over 150 million tied up in this mess. Instead of coming together with a plan, all we have been doing is sitting around twiddling our thumbs, looking like a bunch of undergraduate business students fresh out of college. We need something or we'll lose everything."

Several supporters nodded their heads in approval, slight voices of muffled agreement echoing through the boardroom. An equal amount of older men who stood opposed to the executive's beliefs made their own motions toward disapproval. Things were, as usual, at an impasse between the men who were used to having their own way.

Self-isolated from the continuous, nonsensical arguments coming from both sides, sat a lone woman, her attention focused on the night landscape beginning to develop outside the constraints of elitism within the room. Her position at the front of the boardroom table was mostly ignored by the bickering greedy men before her. Despite her slim figure, power radiated from the woman in constant waves, impossible to ignore.

With a bored expression, the woman moved to adjust the long bleached blonde ponytail threatening to come undone. The severe cut of the masculine, black pantsuit she had decided to wear made even this small task impossible, bringing a slight frown to her full lips. She hated dressing up in this costume, almost as much as she hated these men sitting before her.

"I should cut this nonsense," she muttered to no one in particular, playing with the strands that had managed to work their way into her face. "It's such a hassle."

Quiet steps coming near her alerted the blonde to a young assistant coming to refill her cup of coffee. She smiled warmly at the help as he approached with a scared expression.

"Your usual, Ms. Grey?" the assistant whispered shakily, the elaborate teapot clinking in response to the man's clear fear of the woman.

"Yes," she nodded disinterestedly, already turning her attention elsewhere. "A long black with a spoon please."

The assistant quietly set out her drink, all but running away when finished. Ms. Grey sipped the drink with a smile, enjoying the strong flavor of the espresso. Drinking it like this was usually too strong for most people, but she had never had a problem with the strength. In her experience, she had learned that strength, power, and wisdom were forever linked, one begets the other.

As her eyes took in the fuzzy images of New Yorkers walking on the sidewalks below, Grey remembered that, as a naïve child, all she had ever wanted was to find her spot in this man-made world of money and privilege. Thirty-four years later and she still found herself wanting, wanting ever more from the world around her. Her precocious wish of years past had been met yet it wasn't good enough.

_All these idiots in their eight-thousand dollar custom made suits want is more money to increase their greed to further heights. Money, money, money…is that all that it comes down to?_

Suddenly, the familiar sounds of the executives sitting before her rose to her attention. It was time to take care of this nonsense, the woman thought, turning away from the dark, night sky reflected in the glass to stand up before the men. As if a lightning bolt struck the room, every man went mute in respectful silence.

"Everyone here is concerned about the state of the economy and the subsequent results that it will have on your interests. It understandable to be scared of the unknown but money has never been made by being conservative." Grey took off her constraining coat, flinging it off to a large, mahogany desk in the corner. "Capitalism is not a game for the weak. I can assure you that money will be made by following my suggested line of action concerning your stocks, George. But I can also assure you money will be lost. That's just the business we work in."

"So you're saying my company will lose money? We've already seen our middle market shrink in the last decade-"

Grey closed her amber eyes tiredly. "George, please…stop reinforcing the same concerns over and over and over again as if I lack the cognitive abilities to understand the words coming from your mouth. If you want to sit on your ass and play chess on the porch while all of the big boys are inside playing Texas Hold 'Em, then by all means. This is a risk. I know. But it's a risk that several other prominent confectionaries here are willing to take for new product investment. New product means new potential demographics to exploit for more money. You want to keep selling your Swiss chocolate as your great-great-great-grandfather did back in the early 20th century?"

George, the cautious executive, visibly deflated in the cutting gaze of the blonde. "No…it's just that my company has been relatively untouched by all of this American global nonsense _until_ you got me invested in the sugar plantation in Brazil. I'd like to keep my profit at a high for this quarter, but that damn mess of risk you got me in doesn't seem to be paying off."

"Because sugar is a crop, George," she said. Her eyes narrowed icily. "It takes time to grow."

"You told me it would be ready by now!"

"And it is," Grey frowned, snapping her fingers to an assistant to hand her the laser-pointer for the PowerPoint displayed on each of the executives' iPads. "In the last three quarters, your profit for the new chocolate released with the Brazilian sugar from the plantation has raised your profit margin by 25%."

"Then why haven't I gotten the shipment in to continue selling the chocolate? I can't sell stock that I don't have," George whined. He muttered a German curse under his breath. "Listen, Oscar. I didn't want to do this in the first place. Now I feel stuck in a hole that I shouldn't have been in."

With a slight frown at the use of her personal name, Oscar walked over to where the man sat and pushed his chair from out of the desk. "Then leave."

"What?" George asked, looking at his fellow executives in confusion.

"Leave," Oscar commanded. "I have no patience for men like you who want to be coddled. You wanted a profit and I have given it to you in spades. Yet you still find something to whine about."

One of the executives stood up from his seat in shock, staring at the statuesque blonde. His attempt to challenge her supreme authority was lost in the wavering way his eyes searched for a way to escape the woman's gaze. "Oscar, you can't do this. We need Lindt in this deal. He's a nuisance, sure, but he's got a large share of the chocolate business in European markets."

"Sit down and shut-up," Oscar snarled. "Don't you dare tell me what I can and can't do. The only reason you're here today is because your brother was unavailable. At least he's man enough to stick to a decision." She turned back to the stunned older man still sitting in his chair before her, an eyebrow raised in confusion. "Why are you still here? I told you to leave."

"I never said I wanted to leave."

"But you implied, George. Implication reflects intent. We're here to finalize and you're still sitting on the sidelines. People like that get left behind." Oscar leaned in close to the man's personal space, smiling at the sound of his slight, rapid heartbeat. He's scared, just like all the rest of them. Good. "Do you want to get left behind? Lose out on all…that…money."

And as she expected, he rapidly shook his head, enraptured under her spell. Oscar had learned at an early age that men and women couldn't resist logic with a two healthy sides of charm and intimidation. Her father had taught her to fake it until you make it, but her mother had reinforced the concept of hard work comes great rewards so she never had to.

"No."

"Then play by my rules and trust my instincts," she commanded. Oscar trapped the dumbfounded man in his seat. "Or get left behind to fend for yourself."

A heavy silence descended upon the room as George kept his wavering gaze upon Oscar's burnt amber glare. She knew the weak little man would crack and tumble before her feet. They all did. The blonde knew from ample experience that she was hard to resist. Money, beauty, power, and intelligence, the four things you wanted in the ideal man but never in a woman. Can't let women think they're on the same playing field and all that misogynistic nonsense spouted out on regular basis in the elite world of business.

_What a bunch of poor, foolish boys. Your world is changing, and I'm the nexus of all of that change._

Suddenly, a polite knocking came from the large wooden doors behind Oscar. Just as the blonde was lifting herself back up to her full height to greet whoever was at the door, it opened to reveal the reserved face of the same scared assistant from earlier.

"Ms. Grey, you have a phone call marked urgent from a Mr. Bone."

After raising her brown eyebrows slightly, Oscar motioned for the man to come forward. "Thank you," she took the phone from his hand, "you can leave now."

With a nod, the man left, leaving Oscar with her board of executives. She turned back to the still frozen executive, an apologetic smile on her face. "I have to take this. Don't each other until I come back."

Taking the phone up to her ear, Oscar walked toward the small casual area in the boardroom, ignoring the muffled sounds coming from the executives. At the moment, her main focus was on Bone's unexpected phone call.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Oscar whispered angrily into the phone, releasing the frustration onto the caller's ears. "You know the rules. The last thing I want is these old mothballs learning about things that don't concern them."

Bone sighed on his end in response. "I know, Oscar. We've been together for far too long for me not to know the rules."

Oscar sat down in exhaustion, taking in the view of the New York cloudy skyline. They really had been together for far too long. Bone knew her thoughts just as much as she knew his. There was too much history between them for them not to.

"So…why call me?" she asked, playing with the elaborate jade ring on her left hand.

"Being back in Boston is risky. We nearly got burned last time," Bone said. His voice was next to emotionless. "Every big name looking for more territory is here to get hold of the territory Paddy left wide open, meaning the feds will be keeping a close watch on shipments coming in and out via planes, cargo ships, trucks, basically any transport method you can think of."

Oscar frowned at the reference to the events that happened ten years ago. Back then, she was still a relative unknown taking over her father's affairs. Stupidly, she had assumed that Boston was a good first step to proving her skills to her peers; but, because of a rare unforeseen error on her part, Oscar had to bring in her best legal team to get Bone out of the mess she had created.

Things could have gotten ugly if it hadn't been for that overzealous prosecutor fucking things up on his end. They had caught a lucky break that time. Never again, she pledged. Never again would she count on luck. Relying on luck would get you in trouble every time.

"And that's why I have you working this for me. No one else can handle this complicated operation like you. Boston is just like all of those other cities we've captured. Rio De Janeiro, Los Angeles, Paris, Istanbul…those hubs were just as hard to catch and we managed with far less resources than we have now," Oscar reassured just as a strike of thunder in the distance interrupted her focus. "Our previous mistake gave us the wisdom to succeed in the future. He isn't there to screw us up this time. Boston will be mine."

"Yeah, easy for you to say, you're at work dealing with a bunch of old men and their confectionary empires while I'm down here in the trenches. I wonder who's got the harder job," Bone said sarcastically. "I've got the feds all over me while you get to take baths in temperature controlled, luxury bathtubs."

Oscar laughed as a lightning bolt streaked across the sky, a ghostly light filling the boardroom. "I have a contingency plan for them. Are things getting out of hand?"

"Not yet," Bone replied. "But they're starting to sniff around more than I'd like."

The sounds of muffled complaints echoed even louder at the boardroom table, causing Oscar to shake her head in annoyance. As usual, the men couldn't sit quietly to themselves. Their default was arguing and grumbling at anything and everything. A meteor could be hurling toward the Earth and they'd be too busy complaining about who has the biggest bunker to actually get around to saving themselves.

"Keep following the plan. They can't touch us without potentially causing a mess on their end," she whispered after standing up with a sigh. "I'll call you back at the scheduled time to discuss this matter in more detail."

"The children need tending to," Bone joked. He promptly hung up to let his boss get back to work.

"As always," Oscar smiled.


	9. Chapter 9

-/-/-Chapter 9-/-/-

After finishing a much needed hot shower, Jane stepped out with two hot pink towels around her wet skin and hair. She struggled to hold the pink towel up while drying her tangled mass of dripping loose curls, her mind focusing on the muffled sound of Maura in their bedroom flipping through the channels.

Once they had left BPD for the night, Jane and Maura had picked up their usual dinner fare at the quaint Thai restaurant near the house. When they had first tried the place she hadn't thought she would enjoy all of the unusual flavors of fish, shrimp, and the like, but Maura had assured her that the spiciness would win her over. As usual, her girlfriend had been right. It wasn't unusual for the two of them to have meals delivered several times a week.

Unexpectedly, as Jane started to make her way toward the sink, her towels fell off, leaving the tall woman completely naked.

"Damn towels. How am I supposed to keep both of you on at the same time?" Jane contemplated bitterly, frustrated at the disobedient, inanimate objects. "It's the 21st century. Why do we even have towels anymore?"

Maura smirked from her position at the head of the bed. "You always have the air dry technique, honey."

Jane turned around in the middle of leaning down to pick up the two towels to see her girlfriend's amused face, clearly enjoying her view of the statuesque brunette's damp body.

"Won't that make me sick?"

"As long as you stay in the house, you should be fine." Maura leaned down to help Jane pick up the pink towels, shaking her head in annoyance. "Jane…"

Taking the towels, Jane continued to dry herself off with a raised eyebrow. "What?"

"I told you to use _your_ towels, not mine," Maura pouted. "Pink is mine. Blue is yours."

Jane rolled her eyes after hanging the damp towels up in the bathroom to dry. "A towel is a towel."

"It's a great way to pass disease."

"I've put my mouth on every part of your body for the last three plus years and _now_ you've decided to worry about disease?" Jane asked sarcastically, slipping her feet into her Magnum P.I. pajama boxers. "It's a little late to go down that road now, don't you think?"

With a smile, Maura grabbed a long strand of still damp hair. "Smart-ass."

"And you love it," Jane winked.

Unexpectedly, ruining the intimate moment, Maura released a shocked sound from her throat, causing the detective to try to look back at her girlfriend. "What's wrong? Saw your shadow?"

"Oh no, sweetheart…you have a grey hair coming in."

Jane frowned, rushing toward the foggy mirror. "No, I don't…do I? That's impossible. My mom hasn't gotten one single grey hair and she's like as old as Jesus. The Rizzoli family doesn't grey."

Maura laughed. "So says the woman with who looks like Cruella de Vil's successor," she smiled, embracing the woman to comfort her fears. "Oh don't worry. This is good. We can start going to the salon together. Upkeep dates are so on trend at the moment. Won't that be exciting?"

_Hell no for 500. _

Jane hated the salon. It was like sitting in the waiting room of hell. All of the gossiping, giggling, and chatting equaled an endless torture she wouldn't wish upon her worst enemies. She had always been more comfortable getting her hair trimmed at the local barber in her old neighborhood who had done her, Frankie, and Tommy's hair since their first communion.

Vomit… There had to be some way out of this. I can't be going grey, Jane thought contritely. Going grey meant – dare she say it? – getting old. And if I'm getting old…

Visions of getting ever closer to death's welcoming door rose up in the detective's mind as she began to realize, for the first time since the shooting, that she wasn't invincible. The youthful exuberance used to repel the inevitable, cold embrace of dying could only last forever.

She was next to 40 years old and what did she have to show for her years of experience? Several commendations that included an elite Medal of Honor, the first given to a female detective in BPD's history; a successful career doing something she loved more than life itself; friends and family who always had her back no matter how crazy the idea was; and a woman that was the yin to her yang, forming a love that seemed destined by the stars.

But was that all? Jane didn't have much experience with the whole legacy concept, but something seemed to be missing. What could it be? Something told her it was closer than she was willing to admit.

"It's not the end of the world, Jeddy," Maura said, interrupting the brunette's inner monologue. She used Jane's pet-name, knowing how much she hated it. "And grey hair is quite attractive. Al Pacino has grey hair and you know how much I love me some Pacino. You're like my very own Pacino…except you have breasts…and a vagina…and your hair is longer but other than that, totally the same."

Jane rolled her eyes, snapping her towel at the departing blonde. "Thanks for the comforting words, baby. Really. You're a regular Shakespeare."

The sound of girlish giggling echoed throughout the steam filled bathroom, leaving Jane alone with the taunting image in the mirror of a woman she thought she knew. Am I really getting old? Even the word had negative connotations. Jane tugged at her hair to search passionately for the greys that had come out of nowhere. How could this happen? Detectives don't get old; they get better, like fine wine.

"First, having a child gives me the heebie-jeebies. Now, I'm getting old," Jane sighed tiredly. "That's cool. Nothing I can't handle. It's not like I have cancer."

Still sucks, she thought miserably. The whole positive nonsense her mother tried to push didn't seem to work. In order to be positive, Jane had to admit the truth. She was nothing more than a 38 year old woman in a lifelong relationship with her best friend who had spent her entire life working to become the best damn detective in BPD while forgetting everything else.

The biological clock that had been unknowingly ticking in her head since puberty, dreams of having the 2.5 kids and the picket fence with Steve Sanner – before he became associated with The One with the Big Boobs…vomit – or even Eric had always been last on her list.

But now…now Jane had to accept that she was running out of time.

Having a child scared her, but the fear of potentially fucking up parenthood couldn't compare with the fear of losing the opportunity because of the never-ending passage of time that continued to creep forward with each breathe she took. They didn't have forever.

Jane tied her hair up in a loose bun before throwing on one of her girlfriend's old sleeveless U2 t-shirts, an old memento from the blonde's younger days. While on vacation in Tahiti, Maura had confessed – with the assistance of a couple of Screwdrivers, Margaritas, and even an adventurous tasting of Absinthe – how her love for The Edge nearly turned her into a groupie on their _Achtung Baby_ tour in Europe. The idea of her demure yet liberally minded girlfriend dancing in her poster covered boarding school dorm room to "Who's Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses" while fantasizing about The Edge riding her in a fit of teenage lust brought a smile to Jane's face.

Maura walked out of the bathroom with a yawn to see her girlfriend lounging on the bed watching _Chocolat_, one of the few movies Maura could watch without correcting all of the various poetic licenses the director had taken. Despite the sappiness of the romantic film, Jane considered it one of her favorite movies. She would never admit to the guys that, as a teenager, she had wanted nothing more but to be the daughter of the lovely Lena Olin. It was beyond embarrassing to admit her slight girl crush on the actress.

As Jane went to throw her dirty clothes in the dry cleaning hamper, the sound of vibration came from Maura's cell. Maura moved to answer it before settling on the warm spot that the brunette had left unoccupied. Jane pouted upon noticing her spot taken but the blonde just shrugged as she put the phone to her ear.

"Hello, mother," Maura answered, smiling at Jane's comforting weight sidling up to her on the soft sheets. "How is everything? Is something the matter? Did Father get sick again?"

Constance laughed softly. "You know your father, Maura. He's just happy to be back in Lillehammer for the first snow of the season."

Maura shook her head in annoyance. "Tell me he isn't seriously entering that stupid ski jumping competition again this year."

"Besides my art exhibition, that's the only reason William took time away from his study of buffalo tribes in Montana," Constance sighed at her husband typical antics. "But enough about him. How's Jane? I hope I'm not interrupting the two of you from…intimate matters. The time difference between Lillehammer and Boston is a constant hassle. We're ahead…I believe."

With a smile, Maura turned to the relaxed woman next to her watching the movie intently. "She's fine, Mother. We're just watching a movie before bed. You remember _Chocolat_, that old movie about the single mother who comes to a small town in France and opens a chocolaterie?"

"With Lena Olin?"

Maura made a small sound of acknowledgment before moving her hand to a small, bare piece of the brunette's toned stomach. Jane closed her eyes in response, loving the feel of Maura's soft, delicate fingers tracing out forbidden patterns with her knowledgeable touch.

"What a lovely movie."

Maura nods in agreement. "It's alright. The factual accuracy is a little lacking in some aspects. French culture is so hard to replicate for American audiences." She jabbed Jane playfully in the scar tissue as the woman switched the channel to a soccer match between Brazil and Greece. With a melodramatic expression of utter misery, Jane reluctantly turned back to the film. "Mother is something wrong? I'm flattered that you decided to check in with me but…well, we haven't talked like this since the dinner we had at the house."

"Am I really so transparent?" Constance asked rhetorically. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

"Why would I not be?"

"I heard from your father that he talked to you about spending a couple of months at the beach-house in Tahiti. It's not like you to take a sudden vacation unless something has really gotten you down," Constance said worriedly. "The last time you did something like this was the year before you started college. One day you just up and left on the jet without telling us anything. You had me worried."

"I know, Mother," Maura whispered. "I'm sorry for making you worry."

"I should be the one that saying I'm sorry, dear. When you were a child, I never gave you the attention you needed and deserved. I want to be more involved in your life, Maura. Tell me. Why did you go to Tahiti?"

Maura sighed, not wanting to discuss the whole Clementine situation with her mother. "No, Mother, I'm fine, really. When I went to Tahiti, it was just…," she sighed for a second time, unsure of how to phrase things without lying. "Jane and I needed a break from everyone. We just wanted to get away and…recharge."

Constance took a brief moment to analyze her adoptive daughter's words. After determining them satisfactory, the older woman released a sigh of reluctant acceptance.

"Alright, Maura, you know yourself better than I do," Constance said. "But next time, feel free to call me. I always have time for you."

Surprised at the sudden warm, compassionate nature of her mother, Maura smiled awkwardly, unsure of how to respond to this new attitude coming from a woman she was still getting to know after 10 plus years of cohabitation. "Thank you, Mother. I'll keep that in mind."

On the other end of the call, a sudden loud crash followed by an even louder "uh oh" from a dignified male voice with an Eastern European accent, caused an annoyed sound to come from Constance. "William, I swear…sometimes I wonder why I even married you. It's like living with a baby elephant in my old studio apartment."

"Oh…don't say that," Maura's father's voice mumbled in the background, bringing a slight smile to Maura's face. "Connie, that's why they made duct tape and super glue. You won't even know it's broken."

"Tell me you didn't break the vase, Billy."

"I didn't break the vase."

"Are you lying?"

"Yes," William added, his tone similar to Maura's when she got caught in a lie. "How could you tell that time?"

Constance sighed. "Because you lie like your daughter."

Maura laughed at her father's typical antics. Despite not being related to him, she had spent the most time with him growing up and had developed certain personality characteristics from him. Growing up in the sterilized world of luxury and conspicuous consumption of the uber-wealthy, Maura had cherished having someone she could turn to that would understand her quirky humor and, frequently, her father fulfilled that role in that accommodating way of his.

"Mother," Maura said in between giggles. Her mother continued to bicker with her father in the background. "You can call me back."

"That would be best, darling. Your father just broke one of my sculptures I've been working on for Berlin next month. And tell Jane I said hello. Love you," Constance added sweetly.

"Is that Maura? Tell her I said hello," William's voice interrupted, eliciting a sigh from her mother.

"Father says hello."

"Thank you, Father. Love you too, Mother. Good luck at your exhibition."

Constance hung up and Maura placed the phone back on the small bedside drawer. With a smile, Maura snuggled in her familiar spot next to her girlfriend. A moan of relaxation rose from her lungs as Jane took her into a welcoming embrace.

"My mother says hi."

Jane raised an eyebrow in confusion. "That's…odd. Odd for Constance, at least."

"I know," Maura agreed, playing with the waistline of Jane's boxers. "She's taken mothering lessons from Angela."

"Well, that would explain a lot."

As the film continued, Jane yawned, the combined sensation of Maura's body next to hers and the comfortable energy that came with being in their home. She wished that she could just spend the rest of her life in bed with the beautiful blonde.

"Maura," Jane whispered dreamily, playing with several strawberry blonde strands of hair. "I don't think I could be a good mom."

Maura poked the brunette in the ribs with a laugh. "Is that what's got you so bent out of alignment?"

"I really appreciate the compassion, honey. Laughing at me is exactly the response I _wasn't_ looking for," Jane pouted.

Leaning her body away from their cuddling, Maura crossed her legs and tilted her head in confusion. "I'm sorry, Jane. I thought you were kidding."

"Why would I be kidding about my feelings?" Jane asked incredulously.

"Because everyone else but you knows how lucky a child would be to have you for a mother. You are the sweetest, most sensitive woman I've ever had the privilege to meet. Granted, you aren't…," Maura frowned as her mind tried to find the best phrase, "the typical woman one thinks of for motherhood, but it doesn't matter."

"So potentially fucking everything up with this baby doesn't matter."

Maura sighed. "Jane, you of all people, should know that you can't fuck everything up with our baby because we're in this together. We've got each other and a ton of support from our family and friends."

"Speaking of family," Jane said with a raised eyebrow. "When are you going to tell Constance about us having a family?"

"When you tell Angela," Maura deadpanned.

"Seriously."

"As soon as I process that this is actually happening." Jane gave her girlfriend a shocked look. "What? Am I not allowed to be a little apprehensive about having a child?"

"You never said anything."

"And you never said you were feeling scared shitless," Maura grinned, shrugging. She stuck out her tongue in a coquettish manner, looking absolutely adorable. "Looks like we're even when it comes to secrets. Unless…you have something else to share concerning your private thoughts…"

Jane took the blonde in her arms. "So…we're doing this. We're…having a child together, as a family."

"If you're on board," Maura smiled. "Because, disregarding all of that bravado last night, I really can't do this without you. I want a child but if you need more time…I can wait."

With a heavy sigh, Jane nodded. "As long as we're in it together…I think we can see this adventure through."

"Oh my god, do you hear yourself?" Maura asked in amusement, slapping the tough detective on the shoulder. "Having a baby is not an adventure."

"Well what do you call it when you're doing something you've never done before?" Jane raised her voice to a facsimile of Maura's voice. "An experiment with controlled variables?"

Maura rolled her eyes. "Talking to you is impossible," she said. The blonde snatched the remote to change the channel to BBC America for a rerun of Maura's old loves, "Hex". As the theme song blared through the speakers, Jane dropped her head back to the pillow in a dramatic fashion.

"It's too late to watch your imaginary boyfriend, Maura," Jane whispered seductively. "You know I'm always ready to go. Let's concentrate more on the you + me = sexy time equation and less on Fassbender's accent."

But Jane's protests were ignored as Maura's attention focused on the attractive man on the television. The DVR could barely keep up with her constant cycle of play, rewind, pause, and fast-forward.

"He is so sexy…" Maura shivered noticeably. "I literally have _Shame_ in HD, on my iPad. I've seen it like a dozen times. I know the lines, Jane. That's how serious my love is for him. Did I tell you when he sent me a birthday tweet? The other Benderites nearly died of jealousy, but who cares? He picked _me_ to respond to. Me! I _crave_ him. He's like a new organic compound that I need to put under my microscope and study…privately. I'll show you some pictures of him and his girlfriend that I photo-shopped my face into if you'd like to see-"

"Calm down there, fan-girl. You're about to make your real girlfriend jealous," Jane interrupted. Her face was painted with an amused grin before spanking the drooling, fanatic blonde on her ass. "It's like talking to a girl that's about to get her cherry popped by the hot stud of high school."

Maura frowned at Jane's expression. "Pop…my cherry? What does that mean? Is that a cooking reference?"

_Again this woman leaves me absolutely speechless._

"You don't know what getting your cherry popped means?"

"Obviously not," Maura muttered. Her face lit up in excitement. "Ohh, did you see what I did there? I used sarcasm. This is _so_ exciting. I'm about to pee myself."

"Let's not do that, sweetheart. Your sheets and girlfriend would much appreciate it."

Maura pouted, moving to tickle the brunette in a particularly sensitive location on her hip. "Tell me what it means."

"It's when a girl loses her virginity, usually with a guy."

"But where does the popping come from?"

Jane slapped her forehead. "Really?"

"I don't understand," Maura frowned, tugging at the brunette's shirt. "Tell me, tell me, tell me."

"What if I act it out for you? I know how much of a visual learner you are," Jane said flirtatiously. She hoped the goofy blonde would get the hint without too much assistance. Now that everything was somewhat resolved concerning the baby situation, the detective was looking for a much needed hour of pleasure.

Maura, getting the hint, decided to follow along with Jane's obvious plan. "And how will you show me, Jane? My virginity was popped many a years ago."

With a naughty grin, Jane moved her hand over to a small drawer on her side of the bed, keeping her brown eyes locked on the rapidly shifting colors of Maura's hazel ones. Her hand opened the drawer with practiced fingers, feeling around the various objects that they had used frequently. I know it's around here somewhere, Jane thought, tongue poking out in complete focus on her task.

As her hands came across the long, veined object in question, Maura tilted her head in mock confusion. "Whatcha looking for?"

"I can't show you how to pop your cherry without the proper tools of the trade, Dr. Isles," Jane grinned, pulling out the silicon toy from the drawer.

Maura licked her lips in excitement. "Something tells me I'm going to like this demonstration."

"You know," Jane whispered, rolling her ready and willing girlfriend onto her back. "I think I'm going to like demonstrating it to you."

"Then what are you waiting for," Maura whispered, bringing the eager brunette down to her lips as the taste of expectation nearly overwhelmed the two women.

Jesus Christ, this is pure heaven on Earth, Jane thought, before her mind cancelled out anything that proved to be superfluous to the main task of giving and receiving the love they needed from each other.


	10. Chapter 10

-/-/-Chapter 10-/-/-

The next morning, Jane and Maura took their biweekly morning run from the house to the park with Jo Friday and Bass in tow. Jo was a wonderful jogging partner, happily keeping up with her short, jaunty gait; but Bass, on the other hand, was a constant nuisance to the easily annoyed detective. Working out with a tortoise was next to impossible.

Despite her complaints, Maura insisted on bringing the stupid turtle in his specially designed stroller – yes, the woman has a specially designed stroller for a turtle…it looks as ridiculous as it sounds – and Jane had no choice but to agree after the blonde's stellar performance from last night. And what a performance, Jane mused, replaying the new sounds she had managed to coax from the normally reserved medical examiner. That was a great night, easily one of the top ten.

As they crossed the street from the park to head back to the house, Maura happily returned a smile from a couple who had looked inside the stroller to see a beady eyed tortoise inside. Jane couldn't remember the last time she saw two people's faces shift so fast from joy to shock. In utter embarrassment, she looked away, easily keeping up with Maura's stride.

"See that's exactly why I didn't want to run with you today."

Maura turned her head in midstride, confusion written on her face. "Bass enjoys it when we take him out on our morning runs. Tortoises need fresh air and new surroundings to stimulate their prey drives-"

"Are you kidding me right now?" Jane interrupted incredulously. "He's a turtle. He has _no_ prey drives. Unless strawberries count as prey. Can you imagine a turtle preying on another animal? That'd be the worst death ever." She laughed heartily while Bass turned his head in confusion at the woman. "Nat Geo would have a special entitled: Slow Turtles, Slower Prey."

"That's not funny."

"How it could not be funny? It would be like the longest television program ever produced." Jane changed her voice to a mock Australian accent. "And here comes the predatory turtle, looking for an opportunity to take down his prey. The wet grass is tantalizing from a distance, calling to the animal's instincts to eat. He slowly makes his forward. We cannot emphasize how slow this animal is moving. Oh damn, a lion came by and ate the turtle. Guess I get to leave ADR early today."

"Shut-up," Maura pouted, punching the sweaty brunette in the ribs. "Bass does not appreciate you ribbing him at his expense."

"So now you're his legal representation."

"Still not funny," Maura muttered, trying to keep the giggles at Jane's accent hidden but failing miserably.

The two women jogged down a side street with their pets, happily enjoying the scenery. Jane continued to make playful fun of the goofy blonde, careful to not cross the line, when Maura suddenly stopped in midstride.

"What's wrong?" Jane asked, turning to her girlfriend with an apologetic face. "I was just kidding around. I don't really think Bass is unnecessary baggage."

With an eye roll, Maura pointed to a gaggle of toddlers dressed in warm coats and boots to protect them from the brisk, fall weather. Each bundle waddled in a confused circle, their arms out to the side in an effort to maintain their balance in the pounds of under layers and over layers. The only way to tell them apart was the bright eyes and wisps of fine hair beaming out from the cotton hats and the bright colors of their coats.

"Aren't they just the cutest?" Maura cooed, smiling at one bundled toddler as it made its way slowly to the two women, hands waving perilously in the cold air.

They do look cute, Jane thought. In the back of her mind, she remembered Clementine's happy face, toddling up to them in her first nervous steps all those months ago. She and Maura had been nearly as happy as Clementine had been watching those baby legs struggle to shift from horizontal movement to vertical baby steps.

"I guess," Jane said. She waved at the brave toddler coming nearer. "They look kinda like Easter marshmallows with all of those pastels."

"You don't like pastels?"

Jane frowned. "Pastel sounds like a pie, and I _hate _pie. Having a word that reminds me of pie and pink in the same sentence is my kryptonite."

As the toddler inched closer to Jo Friday's eager invitation to be interspecies friends, the father, realizing his child had disappeared from the clan of brightly clothed, marshmallow looking babies, had run up to the child. He quickly grabbed the baby up in his arms and smiled at the two women after giving Jo a pat on the head.

"Sorry, it's so hard to keep up with this little guy," the father said apologetically. "He gets into everything. A mini Sherlock this one."

"It's alright," Maura smiled. "He's in that inquisitive stage. Children who aren't curious about their environment around six months are at a higher risk for autism."

Jane sighed at Maura's fun fact. The woman couldn't help herself. Things tended to tumble out of her mouth without thinking how they could potentially affect the audience. As expected, the father gave a disturbed face, backing up slightly.

"Oh…well, that's…good to know," he said, frowning. "I think I should probably head back to the group. Say bye-bye, Louis."

The baby waved goodbye and the two women waved in return. With a smile, the two women continued down the street to their townhouse. As they finally made it to the door, Maura turned back before opening the door.

"You alright?"

Jane raised an eyebrow after unleashing Jo into the house. "Why would I not be?"

"Seeing that baby might have brought up some of your insecurities," Maura said. She closed the door behind them. "We can talk about it if you want?"

"I'm fine, honey. We talked last night. That's all I needed." Walking past the answering machine, Jane pushed play as she headed toward the kitchen. "We got a message."

As Jane looked for a bottle of water and Maura started unbuckling Bass from his idiotic stroller, the familiar sound of their new outgoing message played, echoing around the first floor of the house.

"You've reached the Rizzoli-Isles home leave-"

"Jane, you can't say your name first," Maura's tinny voice interrupted Jane in the middle of the message. "I bought the house. Just because you help me with bills doesn't mean you get to throw your name first. People will be confused, calling me and getting Rizzoli first."

"Maura…"

"Fine, do whatever you want. I don't care," Maura huffed, the sound of petulant footsteps resounding softly in the distance.

Jane sighed. "Maura, c'mon, don't be that way. We can change it to something you like," she pleaded. "You know what… Just leave a message and we'll, god willing, get back to you. Thanks."

With a beep, the new message began to play.

"Hello, Maura and Jane. This is Dr. Rose calling to tell you we've finished testing on both of your samples plus Mr. Frost's contribution. I've just gotten the results faxed into my office. If the two of you are free this morning any time between nine and twelve, I'd like to discuss the fertility findings. Call the office to set up an appointment."

Suddenly, the maternally soothing voice of Dr. Rose ended leaving Jane and Maura with a corny outgoing pre-recorded message.

"Newborns are the seeds of life. Let us start your seed off right with Dr. Rose's world-renowned birthing clinic and fertility center."

After what felt like a small decade of misery, the message cut off, leaving Jane staring at Maura, waiting for the inevitable explosion of girlish giddiness. This was happening, Jane thought in shock. This is really happening. For the first time, the idea didn't immediately give her heart palpitations.

_As long as we're in this together, we'll figure it out._

But the comforting words were soon replaced with anxious worry. Jane knew that making a mistake with a baby held a lot more weight than disobeying an order from Cavanaugh or turning all of her brothers' white sports uniforms pink in the wash. Screwing up with a child could be the difference between a kid being on the honor roll or being a mini-Ted Bundy. God, what if I have to investigate his or her murder? What if I suck ass at being a mother?

Maura, completely oblivious to her girlfriend's ratcheting angst, clapped her hands excitedly before making a small pirouette. "Did you hear that, Jane? This is so great. I'll call her to tell her will be there in about thirty minutes. I have to take a much needed shower." She made her way to the stairs with jaunty steps before turning back to the brunette with a sly face. "You can join me, if you'd like. As long as your hands don't start playing around in forbidden areas."

"Hmm?"

Maura narrowed her eyes at Jane's distracted response, immediately knowing the cause. "Jane, stop being a worrywart. Take one step at a time, okay?"

With a couple of anxious breaths, Jane nodded before following the blonde upstairs. "I'll try. I'm not as carefree as you are."

"Trust me, I know." Maura lowered her voice several octaves to imitate Jane. "Wasn't it you that said a couple of months ago, 'Baby, we can't have sex in the backyard. The neighbors will file a complaint at the next neighborhood association meeting I never go to.'"

"Haha, you're so funny," Jane said sarcastically. She slapped her girlfriend playfully on the thigh. "But what do you mean no touching forbidden areas? You didn't put any fences up last night."

"And that's why I have to put them up now," Maura smiled. "I'm _sore_, baby. All that cherry popping turned you into a beast. Or maybe it was the new play toy you brought out. I told you it wouldn't fit there without proper lubrication and exercises beforehand, but you couldn't help yourself and went on Ramboing it in, so now, my entire lower half of my body hurts. My Taj Mahal is, therefore closed for restoration."

"For how long? 'Cause you know I have…needs that have to be fulfilled. Regularly," Jane said, smiling. She slowly managed to make it to the bathroom attached to their bedroom, in no rush.

Taking her clothes off, Maura threw her sweaty sports bra at the always horny detective with a hearty laugh. "A little bit of waiting will be good for you."

"I hate waiting," Jane pouted.

"And I hate listening to you whine like Jo Friday before a bath," Maura replied, walking into the bathroom. "C'mon Ms. Sourpuss, we have to get ready. If we're late, you'll be late to work. We wouldn't want that, would we?"

Jane was struck silent by the blonde's casual mention of her forgotten responsibilities. How she had managed to forget about the cluster regarding Eric and Cavanaugh's up in the air decision on whether she could pursue Cisco's return with the prosecutor, Jane had no idea, but now it was back on the radar.

In the back of her mind, Jane hoped that Cavanaugh would say no. With one simple no, she could bury all of the memories from the past and attempt to move on with the love of her life. But it couldn't be that simple, nothing ever was. Naiveté had died as soon as she had joined the force out of junior college, replaced by the hard realism that came with seeing the worst the world had to offer on a regular basis.

_I have to finish this part of my life, before I can move on. All of this fear that I feel concerning motherhood and starting a family…it'd be a lot easier if I could just get this monkey off my back. I screwed up back then, and it's about time I clean up my mistakes._

Maura poked her head out of the shower; eyes squinted to keep the water out of her line of vision. "You coming? Water's hot."

"Of course," Jane smiled, grateful for the distraction. "Can't have you sucking up all of the hot water."

-/-/-/-/-/-

With a polite smile, Dr. Rose happily invited Jane and Maura into her spacious office. The detective was dressed in her usual attire, a bright aquamarine collared shirt underneath the charcoal black blazer. On the other hand, Maura had dressed in a stylish pair of jeans and a multicolored, striped sweater that nearly swallowed the blonde in fabric. The look would have been nothing short of humorous on Jane, but Dr. Rose couldn't deny that Maura was able to pull it off. The medical examiner exuded adorableness while Jane played protector. Regardless of her own personal beliefs on the matter, the older woman couldn't deny that they complimented each other like two sides of the same coin.

As her mind quickly appraised the couple, Rose made a mental note that the two women looked much less on edge than their first meeting with each other. Glad to see that the two women had worked things out, the doctor motioned to the two toward a comfortable arrangement of chairs situated around a small coffee-table.

Jane raised an eyebrow at the relaxed atmosphere permeating the new space. "Looks like she was holding out on us, Maura. These chairs look a helluva lot more comfortable than those pallets covered in fabric you put us on last time," she said. The detective noticed the disapproving looks from both doctors in response, "…I mean, you know, no offense to your stylistic decisions. I find pretty things tend to be the most uncomfortable 'cause they're intended to be looked at, not used."

Maura discreetly pinched Jane's ass, immediately provoking a strangled cry. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" Jane replied in an angry whisper.

"Stop rambling," Maura smiled before sitting down in the chair offered.

Jane rolled her eyes in silent protest. "I'll stop rambling when you stop being abusive," she muttered, taking the seat next to her girlfriend.

They certainly bicker like an old married couple, Rose noted, watching the two women go back and forth. It must be a form of intimacy ritualized into a characteristic pattern. Most long-term couples had something similar. That was a good sign for them being able to handle a child.

With a polite cough, Dr. Rose turned the two women's attention back to the reason why they were here. "I have your results back."

Completely unperturbed, Jane eyed the assortment of small cakes and cookies on the table hungrily. "How long have those been sitting there?"

"I bring them in every morning. Usually they're for the children but-"

With lightning fast hands, Jane reached out for a small cube of chocolate covered brownie before popping the treat in her mouth. She looked like the cat that ate the canary until Maura poked the brunette in her ribs.

"Again with the abuse," Jane mumbled, chewing the mass of sticky, gooey chocolate deliciousness in her mouth.

Maura raised an eyebrow. "You're so impatient. Dr. Rose didn't even finish before you grabbed. Technically that's stealing."

"Stealing?"

"Stealing, verb. Definition: the act of taking the property from another without consent," Maura said in her know-it-all voice.

"She said it was okay, Dr. Smarty-pants."

"No, she was _about_ to say it was okay."

"Maura…"

"Your eggs have proven unsuitable, Maura," Dr. Isles mentioned causally, smiling maternally at the two women.

In shocked confusion, Jane turned toward the doctor. Wait…what'd she say? Maura's eggs…are unsuitable? She could hardly consider herself a well-learned woman in Boston – Maura pretty much had that accolade on lock – but the detective knew that that couldn't be possible. The medical examiner was like the healthiest woman she knew.

"But…wait," Jane stuttered in shock, instinctually lifting her hand toward Maura's. "That can't be right. All of you fancy doctors and your nonsensical machines can't keep track of the most basic of stuff. Maura's eggs can't be unsuitable."

The doctor set the files politely on the table. "This isn't the end of the world. Jane's eggs have proven to be productive to fertilization and Frost's sperm has passed inspection as well. Maura's plan of being the gestational carrier is still a viable option."

A heavy sigh managed to work itself from Jane's lips. She turned to look at her girlfriend and, despite Maura's best efforts to hide it, saw the disappointment clear as day. For the doctor, this was nothing more but a slight inconvenience, but Jane knew how important having a child, a genetically related child, meant to her girlfriend.

Maura had never had to specifically outright say it, there was no need. When they had temporarily adopted Clementine before learning about her condition, sometimes Jane would find her looking into Clementine's crib wistfully, silently praying for a chance to do this for real, from the beginning. Even back then, her desire to start a family was strong. Granted, Jane hadn't particularly noticed, but the brunette didn't really notice much of anything until it was right on her nose. They had assumed, given Maura's inclination toward mothering, that she would be the other half of the genetic equation.

_I guess that's not going to happen…_

"Maura," Jane started quietly, sensitive to the feelings the blonde was feeling. "You heard the Doc. We can still have a family. My eggs were fine. You'll still be the," she closed her eyes as her mind struggled to remember the word used, "gestational carrier. Nothing has to change."

As if in a fog, Maura gazed at the two women with blank eyes. "So…my frozen egg supply is unsuitable. Could we maybe try getting it direct from the nest?"

"Excuse me?" Dr. Rose asked, unsure of what Maura's jumbled expression meant.

"She meant direct from the source."

Dr. Rose frowned, deep in thought. "We could try, but there is no guaranteed that will prove successful. The problem with the eggs has nothing to do with fertilization, Maura. The issue is the relative unknown factor of your family background. There's just too much genetic risk of inheritable diseases to take that chance. If there was some way you could possibly bring in your parents or other family members in for a profile-"

Maura sighed tiredly. "That would be impossible, I'm afraid."

"Is your side of the family not accepting of the two of you as a couple?"

"She's adopted," Jane said. "Her relationship with her biological mother is…a work in progress and her half-brother was murdered."

"And her father?"

"He's currently in federal custody for," Maura broke off, looking at Jane for a quick save.

"Tax evasion," Jane lied. "He's not on the best of terms with Maura or me at the moment. I'd rather not have to deal with getting him to cooperate."

Trained in the art of reading for unspoken truths, Dr. Rose sensed that there was something the two women were keeping from her. The brunette didn't seem to be any rush to spill the beans and Maura was avoiding eye contact, purposefully trying to stay silent.

Deciding it wasn't her business, the older woman continued. "Whatever the reasons may be, the probability for a healthy pregnancy is much higher with two fully known genetic contributions. It certainly doesn't hurt that Jane and Frost's eggs have tested with over 75% compatibility for optimal fertility and conception."

With a frown, Jane leaned in towards Maura. "Break it down for me, honey. Is that good?"

"Very good," Maura nodded, smiling slightly at her girlfriend.

"Well, I guess we'll be doing that option," Jane said decisively. She whisked her head back to Maura in concern. "But we should make this decision as a couple. Or whatever you want to do. You'll be the one carrying the baby around for nine months."

"No," Maura said decisively, leaving little room for rebuttal. "We'll move forward with using Jane's eggs with Frost. Safety and the health of the unborn child are of the utmost importance."

"Maura…we can wait to make a decision."

Maura shook her head. "Jane, its fine. Really, I'm fine."

The doctor grabbed her iPad, typing in some numbers and data in a flash before raising her eyes back to the couple. "I've put in a request for fertilization and preliminary implantation. I've just got a couple more business questions for Maura and we'll be done."

The two women talked about whether Maura was on any sort of medication that could affect the hormonal changes that come with child development and all sorts of boring medical jargon Jane had no interest in. Despite her earlier concern, she knew Maura usually said what she meant. If Maura was fine, then she was fine. The need to have a child with Jane was clearly more important than the slight issue of whether it had her genetic material or not.

As they left the office to head back to the Aston, Jane was silent, unsure of what to say or do that wouldn't make her sound like a complete and utter dick.

_Hey, sorry about the baby thing, but at least you'll know he or she will come out having my head of hair. You always say how much you love my lion's mane of hair._

_If it makes you feel better, Maura, the child's going to be half-black, so I highly doubt it's going to look perfectly similar to either of us._

Dear lord, that last one sounded incredibly racist. And she was certainly not racist. Jane just couldn't figure out a single thing to say. She was still lost in thought as they drove into the parking garage. When Maura parked the Aston in its usual spot, she turned, punching Jane playfully in the shoulder.

"Thanks for that, She-Hulk," Jane said. The detective rubbed the sore spot with slow circles.

"What's up with you?" Maura asked with a tilt of the head. "The last time you've been this quiet when I drive was when you fell asleep in the car after our trail ride in the Appalachians."

Jane frowned in mock misery. "Am I not allowed to think quietly to myself?"

"I didn't know you knew how."

"You know what, I think I've become a bad influence. Your lame attempts at sarcasm are actually starting to bruise my self-esteem just a tad."

"Well stop thinking. You're ruining our flow."

Jane raised an eyebrow. "Our flow? Have you been watching _Def Jam Poetry_ again? Maura, you will not be able to resurrect the Fugees with your rhythm and rhyme skills. The 90s died. Let it go."

"The 90s might have died, but the music of the Fugees is everlasting. But that wasn't what I was talking about," Maura smiled. "I'm the thinker in our relationship. You're the actor."

"Does that mean I have to leave Boston, join an acting troupe, and hone my skills by living like a new age hippie that can recite _King Lear_ from memory?" Jane said sarcastically.

Maura sighed, shaking her head in annoyance. "I know you've been thinking about me and my feelings concerning the baby. I'm flattered but really, don't worry. I'm fine with the whole thing. Stop using your precious worry quota on something as asinine as that."

Before Jane could respond, Maura was already out of the car. Jane followed suit just as the blonde threw her keys at her after grabbing her purse.

"I'll talk to you later, honey."

"Okay," Jane smiled weakly. "Love you."

"Love you more," Maura said after giving Jane a brief farewell kiss. She turned on her heel and immediately headed up to the stairs to take her to the morgue.

With a shake of the head, Jane locked the car, fastening the golden badge on her waist more securely. It was back to the daily grind. This time, she'd have more to keep her busy if Cavanaugh signed off on her involvement to get Cisco Kid again. As the detective briskly made her way across the smooth concrete, the fullness of the parking lot struck her attention. Each of the ten visitor parking spots were filled by a nondescript black car with U.S. government license plates.

That can only mean one thing, Jane thought anxiously. The Man decided to come by for a visit.


	11. Chapter 11

-/-/-Chapter 11-/-/-

It didn't take long for Jane to realize the action was going on in Cavanaugh's office. She had barely gotten off the elevator before noticing the army of emotionless black suits standing to attention in the Cavanaugh's small office. Five were inside while another group guarded the outside, attempting to comingle with the other detectives. Despite all of the unusual faces filling the squad-room, one face in particular got the detective's attention.

_What the hell is he doing here…_

With quick steps, Jane made her way to the front door, hardly waiting to announce her presence before rampaging through the barrier. Besides a lone female with blonde hair standing isolated near the back, the room was crowded with federal agents. Eric stood near the window with an angry scowl while Cavanaugh stood up to greet his detective.

"Jane," he started, noticing the dangerous mix of emotions developing on her face. "Why don't you sit down and we'll explain-"

"I don't want to sit down, sir," Jane growled, eyes focused on the only suited man sitting down. "What the hell are you doing here, Gabriel?"

Eric's narrowed slightly before turning his attention to the brooding federal agent. "I'd like to know the same thing, Agent Dean."

Dean sighed. "That's what I was getting to before Jane interrupted," he said calmly. He smiled at the furious detective. "It's nice to see you again."

Yeah, I bet it is, Jane thought. As much as it shamed her to admit it, she had had a short-lived affair with the brooding agent several years ago. It had happened before Maura had declared her love for Jane after she had been shot. Looking back in her cauldron of memories, she couldn't stand to admit that she had slept with Dean, the man everyone used to call The-Writer-Of-Many-Diaries – just one of the many affectionate nicknames he had earned while working with Homicide during the cases involving Hoyt and his many apprentices.

What she had saw in the man, Jane had no idea. Maybe it was the liquid courage that had been running through her veins when she had seen him in Washington for that conference all those years ago? Or maybe it was a natural consequence of how shitty she had felt concerning her feelings for Maura that had begun to shift to the more-than-friends spectrum? Regardless of the reasons behind her actions, there was no denying that it had indeed happened.

Damn it…he's the last guy I want to see, Jane thought angrily. Is it Fuck-With-Jane-Rizzoli Week 'cause I'd really appreciate it if I'd got the memo. Really, people. A little bit of consideration for the woman who has a ton of shit on her plate _as is_. Now we're gonna throw another wrench into the mix…

"Uhh… Lieutenant, what's going on?" Jane asked, carefully choosing her words. "Is this about the feds looking into my cases?"

Dean stood up from his seat. "Cavanaugh called me last night concerning an operation that Eric is starting revolving the Cisco Kid."

"You've got to be kidding me," Eric muttered in annoyance. "So you guys just came a running as soon as you got the call? Last time I checked the feds have a lot more on their plate besides little ol' Boston."

"The call we got from the prosecutor's office concerning an ADA trying to get a team together to investigate one of our recently named hotspots for black market activity also got our red flags up," Dean said slyly. He walked over to the white board with a folder. "Cavanaugh's call was just the last straw."

Eric shook his head with a slight chuckle. "And, let me guess, you want me to let it go and let the big bad federal agents deal with it."

"Hardly," Dean said. He turned his attention to Jane. "We'd like to recruit you to work alongside us on this."

Jane frowned. "On what? Starting an operation? Don't you guys have a whole team dedicated for that sort of thing?"

Dean grabbed a couple of pictures and stuck them on the board with thumbtacks, motioning to several of his suited lackeys to write down key facts concerning each of the images. As they scrambled to do their job, Jane noticed the bored expression coming from the blonde standing in the shadows. Despite her best efforts to look unperturbed, the skilled detective could see that the woman was sizing her up for some unknown reason.

"We'd like you and Eric to help us in a long-running operation we've be working on since we received intel that Cisco is back in town, trying to reestablish Boston as his territory." Dean pointed to a picture of a burning building. "Six months ago after returning back from Afghanistan, I got a call from the DEA telling me to come down to Miami to check a suspicious warehouse out near South Beach. There was a lot of hearsay coming from prostitutes and drug dealers that the place was being used by Bone, aka the Cisco Kid, as a base for his eastern corridor hub to import and export drugs in out of the country. Before we could get there, someone must have tipped him off, because the place was nearly burnt to a crisp. There was nothing left of the drugs that had been stashed there."

"And what makes you think this guy is Cisco?" Jane asked. "Criminals love to play copycat when something is shown to make a profit."

Dean pointed at another picture of a young woman with experienced eyes. "One of his paid girlfriends gave us a description that matches the records of his appearance during your trial ten years ago. That's what we were looking for in your files. Written verification of something we were already 95% sure about," he said. "I've been working this case ever since as the lead agent. My team has acquired intelligence that will help us nail this guy."

Her interest peaked, Jane walked forward to get a closer look at the pictures on the board. Everything looked on the up and up yet something irked her about the validity of this so called intelligence. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, but a small voice in her head told her to wait and listen, for once.

"Bone came back into Boston three months ago, right after Paddy Doyle was taken into custody. We believe he's trying to establish Boston as a much needed hub for drugs coming into the East Coast after the Miami fiasco."

"Wait a minute," Jane interrupted, unable to hold her tongue any longer. "You said he wants to make Boston his drug hub for his eastern continental corridor? So…you're saying he's got drugs moving all along the East Coast?"

Dean laughed. "He's got drugs moving in and out from all over the United States and abroad. The drug operation Cisco is running is extensive and complicated. We've only tracked down a couple of places that are known for producing and/or transporting his drugs in and out."

"Care to share?" Eric asked quietly, still scowling at Dean.

Dean returned the prosecutor's glare with his own. The tension between the two men was so noticeable that Jane wondered if the two men had had a drunken night of explicit exploration together. They wouldn't be the first couple to make a mistake after a tough week of cracking criminal cases all day and night. Eugh, vomit…just the idea of brooding Dean and cynical Eric wrestling for a bottle of strawberry flavored lube was beyond gag inducing.

"I wonder who'd be the top…" Jane thought out loud, causing everyone's attention to focus on her.

Eric raised an eyebrow. "Top of what?"

"Umm," Jane mumbled, face turning red in embarrassment. "The top of the…cap. You know like…bust a cap in yo' ass."

Eric backed up slightly. "Are you about to bust a cap in my ass?"

"No, Weiss," Jane groaned. "Shut-up. You're such an idiot."

"I'm an idiot? You're the one talking about busting asses in BPD. That's a lawsuit waiting to happen."

"No one is talking about it anymore _but_ you!"

"But _you_ brought it up!"

Cavanaugh coughed politely. "Do I have to put the two of you in time-out?"

With a heavy sigh, they turned their attention back to Dean. "Okay…well, we've narrowed down several locations in Las Vegas, Los Angeles, and Albuquerque. And that's just the West Coast. I'd like to tell local authorities to move in and collect information, but the last thing we want is Cisco to get spooked."

"C'mon, that's all you've gotten in the last couple of months? Even I knew that," Eric said passionately, shaking his black locks in annoyance. Everyone looked at the prosecutor in confusion and he quickly began to clarify. "I've got a couple of old friends in Vegas who call me whenever something looks odd concerning drug cases. If you guys are still on page one, I don't really see the point of wasting my time following you around like a puppy dog when I could easily move forward on my own."

Jane frowned at the normally cool and collected prosecutor. He was rarely so fired up over anything, nonetheless a case like this. They both wanted to get Cisco to atone for previous mistakes, but there was no reason to be acting so crazy about it.

After her mistake in court and his decision to take the fall for her, Eric had been forced to leave Boston because of the media fallout surrounding the case. He didn't even have time to say goodbye, leaving a short letter of apology with her mother. At first, Jane had been furious but as the anger subsided, guilt soon took its place.

_I ruined a man's life. How can I not feel guilt for that?_

Dean smiled. "You won't get very far, Mr. Weiss. Bone has a preference for hot, young, exotic women. Anything else that comes sniffing around gets rejected."

"And I'm sure you know a lot about that," Eric said antagonistically. He egged the agent on with his plainly obvious verbal jabs. "Feeling rejected."

"It takes one to know one," Dean replied, taking the bait like a child.

Oh, c'mon boys…really? Conflicting personalities was one thing but purposefully attacking someone's weaknesses over nothing was just straight up ridiculous. They didn't even know each other for god's sake. What was the big deal between them?

Jane couldn't even begin to answer that question or how it connected to why this testosterone fight was even happening, but it had to stop. Nothing productive could happen when two bull-headed men decided to assert their manhood in one room. She may not know the difference between the shades of daffodil and dandelion but she did know men and their various…idiosyncrasies – another one of Maura's daily word improvement notes.

With a loud whistle, Jane stared at the two stunned men. "Weiss, shut-up for a minute. I'd like to figure out what's going on _before _the Pilgrims manage to figure out how to win a game." Giving the prosecutor one last judgmental glance, she turned her attention to the agent. "Dean, what's with this whole cloak and dagger routine? Tell us what you need and we'll make a decision. Keep BSing and I don't think I'll be able to control your new bestie's insults."

"Jane, I have to follow protocol. It's above my head, I'm afraid. This operation is top-secret clearance only. Given the international implications of Cisco's involvement, FBI wants to keep other federal agencies out of our sandbox until we get some hard evidence to work with."

"You mean as leverage," Jane stated, knowing the federal game quite well.

Dean nodded. "Capturing Cisco is of utmost importance. Who does the prosecuting for the crimes is of less importance to us. The higher ups will probably consider using him as a playing chip for other favors that are more profitable."

Noticing Eric about to step in with another inflammatory comment about the bureaucratic game of negotiating justice for media coverage – or something to that regard – Jane quickly intercepted the conversation, turning it back to the facts.

"You said Bone likes hot girls. I hope you don't mean actual girls."

"No, he's not like that," Dean said hurriedly. "He prefers to get women from an elite escort service. Some are local. Others are flown across the world for him. It's one of the few luxuries he insists on. We've established a fake escort service to bring in our federal agents undercover to get close."

"Let me guess," Eric muttered sarcastically, running his hands through his black hair. "You haven't gotten much progress."

Dean rolled his eyes before turning back to Jane. "He's been picky. Most of the female agents I picked out aren't even allowed near him. But in the last month, we have made some headway with," he motioned politely towards the bored looking blonde standing alone in the corner, "Lea, our newest agent in from Washington."

Jane glanced over at the young blonde, now introduced as Lea. Her messy, straight hair framed her face, bringing the detective's attention to the woman's confident gaze. Despite her bored demeanor, Jane felt Lea was beyond capable to handle undercover work.

With a slight twitch of her eyes, their eyes locked for a brief second. From personal experience, Jane knew that one could learn a lot from how a person responded to a challenge. Cracking her stiff neck, Lea returned a big yawn in response to the non-verbal bluff, leaving the detective completely at a loss.

_Well…that's a first. Most people don't just yawn in the face of authority…besides me._

Jane furrowed her eyebrows, turning back to Dean. "Sounds like you've got everything under control."

"I wish," Dean muttered. "Bone still seems hesitant to take the bait. Lea hasn't done much to move us forward. She's been invited to his condo and managed to plant a couple of bugs but we need someone who can keep him interested for the long term. In order for this operation to work, we have to find a woman who fits his…preferred type."

As everyone in the room, including the cool blonde isolating herself from the proceedings, started to direct their attention to Jane, the confused detective quickly caught on to the subtle hint.

"No, absolutely not," Jane exclaimed, motioning rapidly with her expressive hands. "I can't just go undercover for months at a time."

"Didn't you agree to help Eric out with his operation, knowing it would require undercover work and a large commitment of your time?" Cavanaugh asked.

"Well, yeah, I agreed to help him out but in an _executive _role. I'm want to get this guy just as much as all of you, but there is no way in hell that I can just…," make Maura worry, Jane thought, instantaneously choosing another phrase, "go undercover for months at a time. I have a life, you know."

With a heavy sigh, Cavanaugh stood up from his desk. "This isn't a negotiation, Rizzoli. You said yesterday you wanted in on this, and I've given you an opportunity to handle take Cisco out in the safest way possible. Either take the opportunity or return back to your desk and wait until the brass clears you back to unlimited field duty but until then," he motioned toward a growing stack of files accruing on Jane's desk outside, "I think you and our case archivist downstairs are going to become quite close."

"So you're blackmailing me?" Jane asked incredulously.

"It's hardly blackmail when I'm giving you what you asked for in the first place, Detective."

Damn it, there was no getting out of this. She had to take going undercover for months at a time. Riding the desk wasn't even a viable option. Yet, at the same time, missing out on Maura's pregnancy to earn her the inevitable ire of the medical examiner's scorn wasn't something she neither wanted nor needed to experience. Jane racked her mind for something that could be applied to get her out of this Catch-22 but with no avail. _Damn it._

"But what makes me his type?" Jane asked, hoping to keep Dean busy while she continued to search for a way out. "I'm hardly a spring chicken anymore."

For the first time, Lea walked out of the shadows, revealing her hidden beauty to the room. Her face still screamed boredom yet those dark, charismatic amber eyes continued to scan the occupants, revealing data known only to her.

"From prior witnesses with intimate knowledge of Bone and the spare amount of information gained from my time with him, we've gathered that he prefers brunettes, tanned/dark skin tones, athletic build, and 175 cm or taller," Lea said. "Given my current status as a skinny blonde who's as pale as the moon, I fit very few of those parameters, thus explaining Bone's reluctance to take me further into his inner sanctum. You, on the other hand, are quite a good fit. I highly doubt he'd reject you."

Jane frowned. "But…don't you guys have a whole stable of female agents to pick from that fit that description? I've seen _Miss Congeniality_."

"She really has," Eric mumbled, shaking his head sadly. "She dragged me to the theatre to see it like a million times."

Grabbing a pen off the table, Jane threw it at the pouting prosecutor, ignoring the groan of protest. Unsure of how to take Eric's response, Dean ignored it as well.

"If we looked at the entire roster of females working in FBI, we could surely find someone, but it's beyond risky to bring in an untrained, inexperienced intelligence officer on a long-term undercover operation," Dean explained. "If something happens out in the field, my ass will be on the line for casualties. No need to take unnecessary risks."

"Dean…I really don't think I can do this."

"If you're worried about Eric, I have every intention to use you both while on loan. I'll need someone working the legal aspects of this joint-task force for when Cisco gets to court. Unlike the last time, I want to make sure prosecutorial misconduct doesn't end up playing a factor in whether he walks or not," Dean said. He turned to give Eric a judgmental look.

Eric rolled his eyes. "Was that the best you could come up with?"

"This operation won't work without you, Jane. Please," Dean pleaded, clearly pushing for the detective's permission. "Cisco and his drug business will continue to wreak havoc internationally and in your own backyard. Do you really want that, for him to get away?"

Of course I don't want that, Jane screamed within her head. Getting the bad guys off the streets was her job. Not to mention her personal history with Cisco. All Jane wanted was to bring him and whoever else was involved in his drug trade off the streets but doing that required much more commitment than she was prepared to give.

Maura understood of the responsibilities that came with being a homicide detective. She knew all about the long hours and unsolvable cases. Jane had never been in a relationship with someone – besides Eric – who understood everything she had to deal with on a daily basis. But she knew that there was a limit to that understanding. Going undercover for months at a time to get information on a dangerous drug lord was pushing that limit to its breaking point. And when that happened…

_It'd be like a Lifetime movie. I can imagine the title, _Blonde on the Run: The Maura Isles Story.

"Jane…"

"Okay, I'll do it," Jane said resignedly. "But I don't want you being my boss on this Dean. This is the feds operation but I'm my own woman. If I do this, I want to have control over what happens in the field."

Furrowing his brow, Dean looked at the brunette in confusion. Besides her typical fiery passion, her face revealed nothing signifying a motive behind her request. He shrugged, knowing he had little choice but to agree. Capturing Cisco was the priority. However it happened was water under the bridge as long as it wasn't breaking any ethical or legal statutes.

"Alright," Dean said. "I won't get in your way." He motions to Lea who raises an eyebrow lazily. "Lea has been running field operations up till now. She'll do an in-depth brief with you about tactics later."

With a friendly smile, Jane nodded at the reserved blonde, receiving nothing more but a cocky tilt of the head in response. Okay…hello to you too, Ms. Bitch.

"Thanks for doing this, Jane. Really, I appreciate it," Dean beamed, clearly happy to be working with the detective again. "It's been awhile…since we last saw each other last."

Jane narrowed her eyes. "I've been busy."

"When are you not busy?"

"You know the answer to that, Dean," Jane whispered, dismissively.

The sound of muffled vibration echoed through the small room and, instinctively, everyone moved to check their phones. For once, it wasn't Jane's phone ringing but Eric who frowned at the small touchscreen in annoyance.

"Well, since we're all on board," Eric said bitterly. He stood up from his seat. "I have a court meeting involving a prostitution madam who refuses to take a plea because she claims all fifty of the girls in her house are her spiritual children." He bowed melodramatically to the group. "I'm glad that we're all on the same side."

Hearing the frustration in his voice, Jane moved to stop him from leaving. "Eric…"

But he had already left, leaving nothing more but a lone business card for Dean in his place. In shock, Jane stared at the door for a brief moment before racing to catch up with him. After galloping down the stairs in an effort to chase the slow as molasses elevator, she had just managed to catch Eric as he raced toward his tangerine Ducati 848, focused only on leaving BPD.

"Eric!" Jane exclaimed breathlessly.

He turned back just as he straddled the sport-bike. "What?"

"You didn't have to run away back there."

"I didn't run away," Eric sighed, grabbing the helmet from behind him. "I've got work, Jane. That's how I keep my brain happy and the bills paid, by _working_."

With quick reflexes, Jane snatched the keys to the bike and frowned at the surprised prosecutor. "Stop being a smart-ass, Weiss. I didn't plan for this to happen. You think I want to work with the feds to get Cisco?"

Eric sighed, running a hand through his spiky mess of black hair. "I know, Jane."

"We can still get him. Dean and the rest of them are just…preventative insurance," Jane said. Her attempt at providing the prosecutor with sympathetic reassurance, however, got nothing more than a huff in return. "Why are you acting like this?"

"Like what?" he spat back.

"Aggressive."

With a sigh, he recaptured the keys and shook his head before putting on the helmet, obscuring his dark expression. "Tell Maura I said hi," he said dismissively. The prosecutor turned the ignition to drive off, leaving Jane looking stunned. The bike's wheels screeched against the smooth concrete as they searched for much needed grip, yet Eric handled the powerful machine perfectly, accelerating down the ramp to meet the early afternoon downtown traffic.

Jane shook her head. Everything just gets increasingly more complicated. Just once I'd like to do something that doesn't explode into a massive pile of fucked up for everyone involved, she thought, trudging back upstairs. Her boots stomped reassuringly against the concrete, but the detective's mind was far too busy trying to analyze all that went down to notice.


	12. Chapter 12

-/-/-Chapter 12-/-/-

Oblivious to the events developing upstairs, Maura sat in her white office chair finishing up some last minute reports before her scheduled visitor arrived. For once, she was glad that she had taken work home to catch up on all of the nonsense that came with being the chief medical examiner of Massachusetts. She hadn't managed to get much done last night but a little was better than nothing at all.

With a final flourish of pen against paper, Maura finished writing the last report on a traffic fatality. Placing the file in her outbox for one of the techies to deal with later, she leaned back in her chair with a heavy sigh.

I'm just surprised I managed to get anything done given how preoccupied I've been since this morning, Maura thought. Hearing the unexpected news that her eggs were unsuitable because of her foggy familial history had been a shock. Everything she had done to protect her want for children gone up in smoke, all because of Paddy Doyle and Hope Martin's complicated entanglement of history that wrapped her own life in its web. Part of her wanted to call them and demand satisfaction.

_Thanks for fucking up my life, biological Mom and Dad! I really appreciate it._

As much as it would appeal to the evil, vindictive woman that's she kept deep inside her heart for the rare occasion she needed it, Maura knew having an emotional outburst wouldn't do much to solve things in the long term. Paddy was in federal custody for an assortment of crimes while Hope was still coming to terms with having a dead daughter come out of the blue. To ask them to give their family background for her own selfish desires was beyond intrusive even if she managed to do it nicely.

It wasn't a big deal anyway. Despite Jane's anxious concern, Maura wasn't particularly obsessive when it came to passing on her genetic material for the same reason she hadn't went out of her way to find information about her biological parents after the failed attempt before heading to college. The risk was far too great.

When Maura had graduated from her elite boarding school, the risk was the knowledge of finally knowing why she had always felt like an ugly duckling compared to her adoptive parents. Now, as an adult, the risk of potentially harming her unborn child with a disease or complication she could have prevented had replaced her childish fears. After Clementine…the medical examiner just couldn't handle another death of a child she loved.

Always logical, Maura recognized that the selfish pleasure of having a child that potentially had her freckles, hazel eyes, and overwhelming IQ wasn't worth it until she learned more about her mess of a familial situation. Until then, Jane's eggs were ready to go. Having a healthy child was all that mattered. Everything else was extraneous.

I'm going to have a child with the woman I love, Maura thought giddily. Just the thought made her want to get up and do a playful jig. This is really happening. All of the dreams of watching a child develop into a well-mannered, beautiful person that had become standard as of late were no longer just fantasies fueled by a biological imperative to conceive. They were going to become reality.

"Dr. Isles, you called?" a familiar male voice echoed through the room, interrupting the medical examiner's thoughts.

Maura opened her eyes to see Dr. Pike's typical arrogant expression staring back at her in boredom. Glad to have a moment to herself, she had nearly forgotten her appointment with the assistant medical examiner assigned to the smaller counties in Western Massachusetts.

The man held a deep grudge for Maura given how she had come out of residency and, within two years, had taken over as chief medical examiner despite Pike's 3 year tenure and chummy relationship with the previous chief medical examiner. She had used to think they shared mutual hate for each other, but a drunken night at the Dirty Robber had proven otherwise. Empathetic of his plight, she had tried to be nicer to him but, at times, Pike made things difficult.

Maura stood up to welcome Pike into her office, attempting a smile. "Dr. Pike, please come in. I nearly forgot about our appointment. It's been so busy around here."

With a judgmental frown, Pike turned toward the window behind him, motioning at the lab techs all huddled together with Suzy in the middle. "You're so busy that your lab techs are playing Jenga?"

"Yes," Maura babbled, awkwardly, moving slightly to look for herself. "Well, we've been working non-stop for the last couple of weeks. It's very important to relax with jobs as…stressful as ours are."

"If you say so," Pike shrugged. "When you called, you weren't very specific about why you needed me to come in. Is this about our annual performance reviews? I got the highest score again."

"You've never gotten the highest score, Dr. Pike."

Pike frowned. "Two years ago, I got a 98."

"Out of 150 points, Dr. Pike, not 100," Maura explained, shaking her head in frustration. "I changed the grading scale to better reflect the growing needs of the medical examiner and the necessary skills required to be ready for any eventuality. You were ranked near the middle, last time I recall."

"Because you cheated by not telling me in advance the cadaver I got had a previous heart condition."

"And I told you, that was part of the exercise," Maura replied, rubbing the growing knot of tension that always managed to develop whenever she was forced to deal with the walking annoyance that was Pike. At least this isn't a regular occurrence, she thought, thanking the heavens for that small ounce of relief.

Before the tall, pale man could gather his wits to deliver another comeback, Maura coughed. "I called you nearly two weeks ago to come in. Why'd you cancel on me? Did your Vespa break down?"

"Hardly," Pike said confidently. With his legendary confidence, he was hardly ashamed to admit he owned an Italian scooter. "I took a rental car. Driving my Vespa through the hinterlands of Western Mass in the middle of October is asking for trouble." He took out his Blackberry and frowned at the messages coming in nonstop. "I've been stuck in backlog. Bodies are coming out of the sky and the equipment is so antiquated that I can't keep up. It's tiresome."

Maura rolled her eyes subtly. "You made that complaint several years ago, Pike. I went out of my way to get funding to upgrade the Western Mass morgue department with state of the art machines and it _still_ isn't up to your _exacting _standards?"

"They're always breaking."

"Did you read the manuals? I offered to show you via the Bullet and Blast Conference this year how to properly use the new equipment-"

Pike shook his head in annoyance. "Why would I want a woman with your obvious inexperience showing me about overly complicated equipment that even Einstein would have problems with? The blind leading the blind."

_He does realize I've been certified in all of the supposed "overly complicated equipment" that he's having such a problem with?_

"You're lucky you have access to such talented lab techs, Dr. Isles. I'm stuck with the rejects who just barely managed to get their undergrad degree in something completely useless like Microbiology," Pike laughed at the idea, "I'd gladly change positions with you to get out of the hovel of the hinterlands. If it hadn't of been for Dr. Blackwell's loving of your backside and youthful exuberance-"

_You know what…that's it._

"Dr. Pike," Maura commanded, letting her voice echo through the space like Jane had advised her to do to increase her assertiveness in the workplace. "I didn't get to be chief medical examiner because Dr. Blackwell liked my ass. During the Outdoors Remains Course at our first Bullet and Blast conference, you were too busy checking me out like a lecher to pay attention. You failed and I passed with flying colors. Blackwell saw my initiative and gave me more responsibilities to show my skills, leading to me getting his position. My ass, as you can see, had nothing to do with it. Got it?"

Narrowing his eyes, Pike leaned back in the chair in shock to hear the normally sweet blonde be so assertive. "Of course, Dr. Isles."

"Thank you for understanding, Pike," Maura said sweetly.

Suddenly, the sound of vibration on her desk got the medical examiner's attention, causing her to look down at her phone. She quickly turned it off with a slight blush after quickly scanning the incoming text.

"Who was that?" Pike asked, curiosity catching him off guard.

Maura shook her head dismissively. "No one," she muttered, trying her best to hide the slight smile on her lips. "I called you to let you know that in the next couple of months, I'll be…unavailable for my normal work duties."

"So I'll be the chief medical examiner?" Pike asked exuberantly, barely allowing the blonde to finish.

"Not exactly…" Maura mumbled, not wanting to hurt the man's feelings. "But I'm gathering candidates for a temporary replacement during the months I'll be…unable to perform my duties. I was wondering if you knew of any skilled individuals that can handle the job."

Pike's face dropped as the arrogant façade fell away, revealing the pretentious man that enjoyed cultivating laurels without putting in the work. Oh no, Maura thought remorsefully. The last thing she had intended was for him to have an emotional breakdown over her announcement.

It wasn't like she hadn't considered Pike taking over for her during her maternal leave, but – how could she say it nicely? – the man had a proven track record of incompetence. In Western Mass, he could afford to fool around and waste time because of the slower pace. Boston, however, was a whole different speed that Maura wasn't particularly sure the experienced but anal-retentive man could take. Having to show up at the morgue during her last month of pregnancy to see that Pike had been murdered by an angry Arson detective who wanted to close his case in a timely manner wasn't something she deemed enjoyable.

"Pike, I really appreciate your-" utter slowness during autopsies, Maura mused, "but I need to find someone who can understudy with me to learn the job. You're needed in Western Mass. It would be silly for me to find someone with your extensive expertise to fill your position," she said. The medical examiner knew how much the older man enjoyed to be buttered up with flattery.

"So…this has nothing to do with my skill set or our combative relationship?"

_Well, now that you've mentioned it..._

"Of course not," Maura lied, moving to hide the forthcoming hives from the nosy assistant medical examiner. "I'm going to expect you to handle the new temporary chief's acclimation to the position. There's no other man I," she gagged slightly at the thought of saying her next words, "trust more to handle this than you, Dr. Pike."

With narrowed eyes, Pike tapped his fingers on his leather oxfords. "That'll put me in a perfect position to brownnose someone more receptive," he whispered under his breath.

Maura frowned. "Excuse me?"

"I don't know of any names in particular that come to my attention," Pike said. His obvious attempt at changing the subject didn't go unnoticed. "I'd suggest checking out some registered coroners and medical examiners in the BBB first. You'd have the best odds finding a qualified temp there than putting out an open call with those job websites."

"That's actually a really good idea, Pike," Maura smiled, surprised at his good suggestion. "I did notice some new faces at the conference this summer."

Pike moved to stand up, immediately noticing the statuesque brunette in the open doorway. In confusion, Jane looked between Maura and Pike, judging whether she needed to get involved or not.

"Jane!" Maura exclaimed, standing up from her desk with a smile. "How are you?"

"Fine," Jane said. Her lips twitched upward slightly in an attempt to smile. "You alright?"

Maura followed her girlfriend's gaze to Pike, still standing awkwardly in the middle of the two women. "Pike and I were just discussing my upcoming leave. Actually, he was just leaving."

Pike nodded, walking toward the door. "You look lovely as always, Detective."

"Thanks," Jane said. She stepped inside the office to allow Pike to pass. He tilted his head slightly in recognition of her appreciation before heading out to the elevator. Jane quickly shut the door behind him with a heavy sigh of relief.

"Jesus, that man is seriously a walking personification of Skeletor."

Walking over to greet her girlfriend with a brief kiss, Maura laughed. "Jane, that's not funny."

"It's the truth. The only thing he's missing is the purple cape and the muscular blue body. But, who knows, he could be blue underneath his dandy plaid and country club khakis."

Maura rolled her eyes as they sat down on her couch together. "I know you didn't come here to get on my nerves. Things must be really slow upstairs."

Yeah, _real_ slow, Jane thought. If by slow you mean being blackmailed into working a long-term joint task force with the FBI involving undercover work with a dangerous drug lord with international ties. Oh, did I mention Dean and some crazy, icy bitch are going to be involved? How could I forget that? And Eric has turned into an aggressive beast that has some kind of a back history with Dean which is totally out of the norm for him. Basically, everything has reached the point of utter fuckedupness upstairs. So…how was _your_ day?

"Not exactly," Jane frowned, ignoring her inner monologue as she fiddled with a wayward loose curl.

"Well things can't possibly be as slow as they are down in the morgue." Maura motioned at the joyous group of techies clustered around a teetering wooden pillar. "My techs are playing Jenga like twelve year olds, and the bodies are dwindling to a perilously low amount. I feel like a donkey for saying it, but I really wish someone would keel over to give me something to cut into."

"Ass."

"Jane, seriously, not at the work place," Maura pouted. "My ass is not your plaything. I know you have a fetishistic obsession with spanking it but please. Wait till we're in the privacy of the home or even the Aston."

Rolling her eyes, Jane playfully jabbed the blonde in one of her many ticklish spots. With an infectious bubbling of giggles, Maura squirmed in delight before pushing her hands away.

"I don't mean _your_ ass," Jane corrected. "Your expression was wrong. It's not a donkey, it's an ass."

"So I feel like an ass."

"Exactly, honey."

Maura closed her eyes, mentally reminding herself of the idiom's proper usage before returning her focus to Jane. "Okay, I think I've got it now."

Enjoying each other's presence, the two women quietly sat on the couch together. Jane couldn't bear to look within the blonde's accepting eyes, knowing she would spill everything going on without thinking like she always did with her girlfriend. There was no use trying to keep secrets from Maura. It was like trying to fight the wind or stop a wave with your bare hands, there was no point wasting the effort.

With a smile, Maura let her hand cross the small space between them, their hands connecting in a private embrace. Both women sighed in response to the welcome warmth radiating from the other, linking them intimately with one another. Sex was great but nothing could take the place of the intimate moments such as this. It was…comforting.

"This is nice," Maura whispered, reverently.

Unable to move, Jane made a small sound of agreement as the barriers she had developed to cope with the terrors of her everyday existence began to crumble before the powerful, understated love emanating from the medical examiner.

"This couch still sucks majorly at comfort though," Jane joked as a small piece of something needled her spine. "God…what the hell was that? Something just bit me, Maura. This sofa is an animal with a taste for Italian flesh."

Maura grinned. "Don't worry. It's just the molts from various arachnids found near the archaeological site where my father recovered it."

"Arachnids?" Jane asked incredulously, visibly shrinking from the back of the seat.

"Yep."

"Aren't arachnids like spiders?"

"Yes, they are. I'm glad that private Catholic school education paid off."

Jane jumped up from the couch, eyes wide in a rare show of genuine fright. "Fucking Christ, Maura! You know I can't stand those nasty things. Spiders are dis-gust-ing!"

"But Jane-"

"No way, Maura!" Jane exclaimed, passionately. "My brothers made me watch _Tarantula_ when I was a kid. Ever since then, I've have a severe case of spider fear."

"Arachnophobia," Maura corrected.

"Whatever, the point is that I'm _not_ sitting on that nest of death."

Suddenly, Maura started laughing at the frightened brunette's over-the-top dramatics. "Jane…it's alright. There aren't any husks of spiders or the like in this couch."

"What?"

"This couch was made for my father by a local Yoruba tribe. He became acquainted with them during his study of the African lion's social structures," Maura said reassuringly. "I highly doubt there are any husks in here."

Slack-jawed, Jane pointed accusatorially at the giggling blonde. "You little, sneaky fox. You lied to me."

"I didn't lie. I was simply attempting to be humorous by telling a joke. It's usually better when both participants laugh, however," Maura smiled. "I'm sorry for making you freak out like that. I keep forgetting your irrational fear of spiders. Mea magna culpa."

Narrowing her eyes, Jane frowned. "Whatcha say?"

"Mea magna culpa." Noticing the confused look still painted on her lover's face, Maura smiled warmly. "For someone with a Roman Catholic background, you sure do lack basic Latin linguistic skills. It means I have sinned greatly. Didn't they teach you Latin in school?"

"Of course they did but I used it as an extra 45 minutes of sleep in the morning. Frankie knows more than I do when it comes to praising the Lord in the traditional language. He had to take the class in the afternoon with Sister Bitcher." Jane shivered in fear of the nun who had decided to haunt her adult life with memories from the past. "Don't tell my ma though about my spiritual weaknesses. She'll drag me to confession to purify my dirty soul. God knows she's been begging me to go back to church on Sundays again."

"We can start going to an Eastern Orthodox church to throw her off the scent?"

Jane chuckled, returning back to her warm spot next to Maura. "She'll still find some way to purify me in the car with a vial of holy water she keeps for the odd occasion a zombie comes out of the sewers," she deadpanned with a slight wink. "What was Pike doing here in the first place? You two decide to bury the hatchet?"

Maura shook her head. "Miracles have a low probability of occurring. We discussed possible candidates."

"For…"

"For my maternity leave," Maura said. She raised a judgmental eyebrow. "It's hard to do an autopsy when you're out to here," Maura made an exaggerated motion with her hands to represent a pregnant stomach, "and you can't see your feet anymore. I'd like to have some plans in place before that point happens."

"You know, I read somewhere that women don't have to take maternity leave."

"But I want to," Maura argued back.

Shocked at the blonde's passionate response, Jane shrugged it off. "Hey, no need to bite my head off about it. You gonna let Pike take the reins of the morgue?" she asked incredulously. "I wouldn't trust him that much even if it was just temporarily. You remember when he took over for you at that case at the docks? Watching him analyze everything _but_ the body for an hour was humorous for the first ten minutes. After the courtesy period, all I wanted to do was kick him in the balls to get him going."

"I'd pay to see that," Maura smiled. "Name a time and a place."

As the two women sat in silence, enjoying each other's presence, Jane turned toward her relaxed girlfriend. "Honey…we need to talk."

"Uh-oh," Maura said. She tilted her head with worry. "That doesn't sound good."

"Cavanaugh's letting me go forward with the operation with Eric."

Maura beamed. "That's great, sweetheart. I know how much you wanted to be involved."

"Well, it's not as simple as that."

Unexpectedly, their cell phones began to ring simultaneously, alerting them back to their endless responsibilities.

Jane sighed. _Damn work_. "We'll talk later."

Maura nodded. "It's a date," she smiled, answering her phone.

"Isles."

"Rizzoli."


	13. Chapter 13

-/-/-Chapter 13-/-/-

Several states away, in another tax bracket, a statuesque beauty with long bleached blonde hair and tired amber eyes exited the private elevator toward the door of her elite fifteenth Central Park West apartment. The sound of her full length black coat fluttering with each of her confident strides echoed against the walls, bouncing off the few nondescript doors whose occupants she cared little about.

For most people, sharing a floor with numerous business CEOs and an endless slew of celebrities would be the peak of achievement, but Oscar found the whole building's ideology toward catering to the exclusive cumbersome to her own beliefs. Money was nothing more than a play-toy to those who have and an unachievable golden star in the sky for those who have not. She shared no interest in accruing more wealth to play with. Just the idea of it bored her.

As she turned down the corridor, Oscar raised an eyebrow at the uniformed doorman standing to attention next to her door. Upon moving here for work – maintaining the homogeneity of stupid luxury was half the battle in mastering silly businessmen –, she had been marveled at the attention in which a man could spend hours protecting a door. I hope they don't keep him here all day, Oscar thought ruefully.

"I hope you're not bored," Oscar said.

The uniformed guard nodded, cracking his neck slightly. "It pays the bills, Miss Grey." He turned back to tap a couple of numbers on the keypad before swiping his card through the slot, the door opening to welcome her inside. "Hope you have a wonderful evening."

"Thank you," Oscar muttered disinterestedly, walking into her house with a heavy sigh.

Despite the luxurious world she swathed herself in, the interior of the apartment was remarkably plain and simple. The dark wooden floors blended inconspicuously with the off-white walls and comfortable but reserved lines of the few pieces of black furniture placed in the living room. Besides the large sheet glass windows and top of the line entertainment center, everything in the apartment seemed to reflect the temporary status of its occupant. Personal mementoes, knickknacks, and photos were deemed irrelevant by the focused blonde.

Dropping her keys and coat on the chair, Oscar slowly walked toward the spectacular vision of the energetic city landscape before her. Multi-colored artificial lights blinked on and off in a beating pulse, transporting the infinitesimal cells throughout the various veins and organs of a city that never sleeps. From up here, she could satisfy the voyeuristic instinct that every human carried without the risk of being seen. They were oblivious to her and she oblivious to them. But having eyes meant nothing in the dark.

Her advantage taken away, Oscar turned away from the familiar landscape, hoping to find some sense of satisfaction in the place she called home, but it was not to be found. She hadn't expected any different. The apartment was a constant reminder of the lifestyle she had been forced to take to be the woman she was today. Lonely, cold, unfriendly, all descriptors of the space she had carved out for herself in the cruel underbelly of New York City's elite.

_Is this who I've become? An isolated husk of human in exchange for living the life most people would kill for? The life my father tried so hard to achieve?_

Even her business savvy mind couldn't find the answers to those questions that had been stuck on repeat for the last twenty years since taking over her father's business. His past was eating her alive, turning her into a person she had never sought to be yet…this was the only life she knew how to live. Turning back wasn't – no, couldn't was a better word – be an option.

In the corner of her eye, Oscar saw the familiar golden light emanating from the well-worn menorah, enshrined on a side table near the wall. Despite the nicks and imperfections of the hand-made brass piece, it was carefully maintained. To anyone else, the menorah was a constant eyesore that warranted being thrown in the trash-heap; but to Oscar, it was a cherished piece of her history that she'd never be able to return to.

Oscar walked over to the bright red light flashing on her answering machine, curious to know who had bothered calling her home phone. Rarely had she given the number out to anyone but immediate family and the odd client who insisted using land lines before committing mergers. She pressed play while happily stepping out of the Sartore oxfords she wore regularly to the office.

"You've reached Oscar Grey's landline," her severe voice echoed through the cold silence of the room. "I'm not here. Leave a short message with your name, number, and reason for calling. I'll return the missed call promptly."

A beep sounded before the first message played, leaving Oscar to go into her kitchen to pour a much needed after work Black Russian. Nothing was more relaxing than a Black Russian on a fall night alone in the city.

"Oscar, this is Elizabeth calling. Your father and I have landed safely at JFK. We're heading to the hospice as we speak. Everyone has been so accommodating. I especially appreciate the private driver you had waiting for us," the woman said. She was clearly whispering on her end.

Of course she's whispering, Oscar thought with a scowl. Elizabeth was weak, exactly the reason why her father had married her in the first place. She was everything her mother hadn't been. Weak, compliant, submissive, idiotic…being around the woman for an extended period of time was almost shameful. The only reason Oscar had tolerated Elizabeth's presence in her life was because of her father's incessant nagging when she didn't.

As the message continued, Oscar began to stir the Kahlua and vodka aggressively in the glass. "All of this luxury is wonderful. When your father saw the private room set up for him and all of those doctors taking care of him like a king… I've never seen him happier. But, Oscar, he really would like to see you. He doesn't have much time left. You know that. Give him his one last wish."

Oscar chuckled quietly, shaking her head in amusement. "I've given him too much as is."

"To this day, I don't understand why you two had such a falling out. You two used to be so close when you were in school."

Of course you don't. He purposefully kept you blind to everything but the new jewelry he kept on you for all of those inane dinner parties. Even now, nearly twenty years later, Oscar smiled at how she had thought the woman looked more like a Christmas tree than a human.

Elizabeth sighed on her end. "He's losing his memory each and every day. Whatever he did, he can't remember it now. Don't let him die without telling him goodbye." Her voice broke off as a small sound from the background echoed into the speaker. "Given our…strained relationship over the years, I know that I'm in no position to ask you to come see him. You've already done so much for him, me, and your sister, but he desperately needs to see you. All of the money in the world can't take your place. Your father learned that the hard way. I'd hate to have to see you learn the same way he did."

The sharp sound of glass on marble bounced off the walls as Oscar, in mid-sip of her drink, angrily slammed it back onto the counter. She rushed over to the answering machine and quickly deleted the message, refusing to listen to anymore of her step-mother's ramblings. What a complete idiot. Elizabeth knew nothing of the situation, therefore making her opinion utterly irrelevant.

_Only the naïve feel the need to voice an opinion that is based on nothing _but_ opinion._

With yet another beep, the second message began to play as Oscar stomped back to her forgotten drink.

"Oscar," a familiar female voice said in a sing-song fashion. Her voice brought a genuine smile to the blonde's face. "I'm starting to think you don't find me favorable anymore. You don't pick up the phone and you flake out on our date last night… It'd be easier to date a cardinal than you. Call me."

The woman's obvious plea for attention was ignored, however, as Oscar walked over, deleted the message with little hesitation, and made her way down the side hallway to her bedroom. She had no intention of going to bed despite the late hour and exhaustion. Attached to the large master bedroom was the small study hidden behind a concealed door in the wall. With practiced keystrokes, Oscar tapped in the code, opening the door with a whispered whoosh of air.

"Back to work," Oscar said. She walked into her comfortable study, relaxing for the first time that day.

With a heavy sigh, the blonde sat down to turn the expensive computer on before looking at the time displayed on her Rolex, noting the time. The computer whirred to life and, right on time, an announcement from Skype told her that she had a waiting video call.

Finally, someone who follows schedule, Oscar thought.

"Bone," Oscar smiled, glad to see her right hand man. "Everything is running smoothly, I presume."

Bone shrugged, causing the video to stutter slightly with the movement. "As smoothly as can be expected. I've got the network up with some of the local buyers. It shouldn't be long until we can try moving test product in."

"How long?"

"Five weeks if we use Brazilian stock, but cocaine might be too heavy to push as a test. The quality is far too high."

"We can dilute."

"Which is the last thing I want to do. Diluting means less profit for more work on my end. And all of that extra work is a big red flag to anyone whose head isn't up their ass. Besides, several contacts have informed me that the local drug unit has put several drugs on their high priority list. Cocaine is a sure-fire to be on that list."

Bone laughed slightly. "When'd you start worrying about local authorities and profit? You're starting to sound like the children you deal with at the jail."

Oscar narrowed her eyes, picking the infinitesimal dirt from her manicured nails. "Boston burned me last time. I _don't _want it to happen again," she commanded softly, her repressed anger coming to the surface. "Marijuana is better. It's a lot easier to get rid of and less noticeable. We don't want to make a splash, Bone. The goal is to establish Boston as our territory, not to show off our assets and bring unwarranted attention."

With a small sound of amusement, Bone went silent for a brief moment. "I'd figured you'd say that, so I already contacted our ships to make a special trip down to Amsterdam for a rush on a shipment of ready-to-sell product."

"Kilos?"

"About 50 to 55, give or take."

Oscar frowned in annoyance. "Tell Axe if he fucks with me again regarding the shipment, I'll deal with him personally. If he tries to throw in extra kilos or gets that annoying bitchy voice, he's playing games."

"Then threaten him with leaking those pictures showing him playing hide-and-go-seek with the two nuns."

"Exactly. He thinks I don't have the dirt on him, but, little does he know, I have eyes everywhere and my eyes rarely forget things they've seen. Oh, Bone?"

Bone made a small grunt of response.

"You know I don't like it when people assume," Oscar said dramatically. "It's so hard to plan for the inaccuracies that come with it. I get hives just thinking about it."

Bone leaned back in his chair, amused at the woman's tone. "I've never heard you complain before about my assumptions."

"Because I trust your judgment," Oscar admitted, smiling slightly at her confession. "It's the idiots that I can't stand. Speaking of idiots, is my little snake in the grass performing well?"

"She doesn't talk to me. Acts like she's really one of them."

"Congratulations," Oscar replied sarcastically. "You've been spared much pain and misery."

"She's your sister. Be nice."

Oscar rolled her eyes. "_Half_-sister. It's important to remember that distinction. She only has half the brain capacity of an intelligent human being. And even that's not enough to keep her out of trouble."

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Back in Boston, the sound of jangling keys echoed through the darkened house as Maura and Jane returned home after another long day solving crimes. Their last case for the day had been an unexpected doozy of a mess involving, of all things, a child murdered by a suspected pedophile living in the neighborhood. As much as it killed Jane to do nothing, the case was out of Homicide's hands. All she could do for the family was hand off the body to Maura and reinforce that the Sexual Crimes division would make the deceased their primary focus.

"Jane," Maura said quietly. She took a seat on a kitchen stool to slide her sexy yet painful, three-inch, forest green pumps off. "The lead detective for the case came by to hear the preliminary findings."

With a sigh, Jane ran her hand through her loose curls. "And I'm sure he seemed on top of everything. That's his job. But it doesn't change the face that I _hate_ passing cases to other units," she groaned, dropping her coat on the couch. "You just have to trust people you don't know, don't work with, to do a good job."

"I'll do everything I can to make sure that happens," Maura said reassuringly.

Jane returned a weak smile. "I know."

As the two women enjoyed being alone with each other, the sound of dog barking and the heavy sliding of a tortoise against the hardwood floor reverberated through the house. Jo rounded the corner in the foyer first while Bass followed closely behind, moving much quicker than his normal slow-as-molasses pace.

"Looks like we've got company," Jane smiled, leaning down to give the terrier a big, loving pat. "And how are you doing, Jo Friday? Did you have fun with the nanny today?"

"Jane, he is not a nanny. He's a _pet-sitter_."

Jane rolled her eyes exaggeratedly after patting Bass on his scaly head. "Tomato, tomato. Same thing, different word choice. Speaking of him, I really think we should find someone new."

"Why?" Maura asked, incredulously.

"Because the last time I paid him at the end of the week, he told me he was thinking of raising his prices."

"So? He's an undergrad at BCU, honey."

"Just because he's an undergrad doesn't mean he's entitled to price gouge. We already pay him 150 per week. Anymore and we'll have to fill out a W-2 form," Jane complained, heading toward the kitchen to wash her hands. "C'mon, Maura, don't give me that pity face. He's doesn't do anything but stay here for a couple of hours and feed them. That's not worth a fifty dollar increase."

Maura shrugged, moving to stand up to join her girlfriend. "If you think it's best to fire him, fine. But finding someone who's as cheap and reliable as him is going to be incredibly difficult. We can always cut back on cable-"

"No way," Jane interrupted. "How can I keep up my hate for the Yankees and the Giants without ten sport channels dedicated to twenty-four hour coverage?"

"Of course…how could I ever forget?" Maura said sarcastically. "So we're keeping the pet-sitter."

With a sigh of defeat, Jane nodded. "I don't even know why I even attempt to argue with you anymore. Every argument ends up with me feeling cheated while you skip off into the sunset, happy as a clam."

"It keeps your mind active, I think," Maura joked, poking the brunette in the ribs playfully. "Speaking of active, my stomach is grumbling. You said in the car you were going to cook tonight."

Jane made her way to the refrigerator to rummage around in the freezer. "What's with the apprehensive tone?"

Maura cringed. "I'm not apprehensive, per se…just – umm…how do I say it? – concerned," she said weakly. "Do you mean you're going to actually attempt to not burn something tonight or the usual frozen dinner route?"

"Do you want to eat?"

Maura frowned in confusion. "Well, obviously. I haven't eaten anything since our lunch together."

"Then I suggest you take the frozen food option," Jane smirked. She looked at the clock designed as a skull on the medical examiner's desk. "It takes like 30 minutes to make a frozen dinner. On the other hand, it would take me several _patient_ hours to make something by scratch that would be up to your _exacting_ standards. Which would you prefer?"

"Jane…"

Ignoring the blonde's pleading tone, Jane continued thrashing about the freezer for anything that didn't read organic, gluten-free, vegan friendly, low sugar, vegetarian, or soy free. Maura had always been a health nut before they had gotten together, but, lately, the amount of healthy food had increased. Each time they went to the grocery was like pulling teeth to get her to agree to any of Jane's usual purchases, claiming they were unhealthy, fattening, and unwise food options.

Well duh, Jane remembered thinking on their last weekly venture. Marshmallow fluff, bacon chocolate, and Oreos aren't supposed to be healthy. They make you feel good. When someone's depressed, the last thing you see them grab is a box of rice cakes with no gluten, sugar, by-products, or taste. It's almost like eating a softened brick. Yet Maura insisted now that they were on the family track, the wise thing would be to change their diet to promote healthy values for the child.

_Yeah…we'll see how long she can last without her secret love of chocolate. I give it – oh, I don't know – about a week, before I find her sneaking home Nutella and Reese's peanut butter cups._

After digging through the pound of organic packaged cardboard, Jane finally found two chicken burritos that, albeit being organic like the rest of the stuff, actually retained the taste of chicken. Taking her head out of the cold box, she threw out the two burritos in Maura's general direction before closing the door behind her.

"Hold that for a minute while I get the aluminum foil and a pan," Jane said. She began to rummage through the cabinets for the materials. "We've been living together for about a year now and I still can't manage to find anything in here. Either you keep moving stuff around or I'm more absent-minded than I thought."

Maura laughed, looking down at the frost covered packaging of the burritos with a slight frown. "When would I have the time, honey?"

"Maybe you do it in your sleep?" Jane asked, taking the food from Maura's hands upon finding the stuff she needed. "God knows you talk and mumble all the time about frozen pickles and cheese flavored asteroids. People do crazy things when their big brains are on sleep mode."

"That analogy is actually incorrect, Jane. Sleep mode is a function of computers. Computers are inactive when put into sleep mode. Humans are incapable of true inactivity," Maura corrected disinterestedly, watching the brunette as she set the oven and put the two burritos inside to cook.

Jane turned around with a playful smile of amusement at being corrected by her overly intelligent girlfriend, but the look on Maura's face quickly put a stop to her joyous mood. As if a switch had been flipped, the blonde seemed to be waiting for something from Jane. She quickly racked her brain to find an answer to what she had clearly missed. What did I do, Jane thought worriedly, heart racing in fear.

_God, I hate how she can make feel like I'm a little kid with nothing more than a twitch of her head. It's like living with my mom all over again._

"What's wrong?" Jane asked quietly, leaning against the counter defensively.

One heartbeat. Two heartbeats. Three heartbeats. And finally four. Unsure of what to say, Jane could do nothing but wait, wait, and wait some more for Maura to say what was on her mind. Maura, however, seemed to be in rush. As usual, she slowly and deliberately raised her head toward the anxious brunette.

_Well…are you going to say it? What'd I do wrong?_

"Honey?" Jane asked for a second time, clutching the counter in expectation. "Listen, whatever I did this time, I'm sorry. I know I'm not supposed to say that until _after_ I know what I did wrong in the first place, but I really am."

Now it was Maura's time to be confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Well…," Jane mumbled, embarrassed. "You're giving me that look and the vibe in the room just went down like ten points. Aren't you mad at me?"

The blonde stared at the detective before a hearty laugh released itself from her throat. "No, I'm not mad at you, Jane. I just wanted to know whether you were finished cowshitting with me."

"Thank god," Jane sighed in relief before narrowing her eyes at Maura's scrambled expression. "It's _bullshitting_, by the way. Not cowshitting. That just sounds like the punch-line of a joke no one laughed at."

Maura, however, was not amused. "What's going on at work, Jane? You seemed distracted today at the crime scene ever since we talked in my office."

Oh…that. Jane had yet to finish telling Maura all of the craziness that had developed from Eric's – now a joint operation with the feds – plan to investigate the return of Bone, a.k.a. the Cisco Kid, to Boston after the mishap from over ten years ago. Dean's sudden arrival was going to be a doozy on its own for Maura to process and that wasn't even the biggest news. She had yet to figure out a viable way to tell her girlfriend everything that made the operation officially a cluster. And this time, she couldn't ask Frost for advice because of the implicit need to keep their investigation into Bone confidential for the time being.

_I guess I'll just have to take this with the good ol' philosophy that a good offense is the best defense. Just tell her straight up and hope for the best._

The heavy sigh coming from her lips involuntarily, Jane grabbed Maura by the hand to head toward the couch. Bass and Jo continued to play hide-and-seek with each other, completely oblivious to their two humans' actions. They had gotten used to ignoring the two women and all of the loud noises that frequently accompanied their being together.

Maura sat down on the couch first and Jane sat facing her, both sitting cross-legged on the large sofa. A small wisp of strawberry blonde hair had managed to unravel itself from Maura's elaborate bow and, as much as Jane wanted to, the brunette kept her hands to herself, watching the beautiful woman before her as if waiting for her to speak.

"Speak," Maura commanded softly, tapping Jane on her skinny arm.

"Dean's back in town. He and his cronies were in Cavanaugh's office making ultimatums."

Maura frowned, concern forming slight lines on her forehead. "Because of Eric's decision to start an operation into Cisco? But…that doesn't make sense. I mean it does given Cisco's drug connection, but still…why'd he decide to show up all of a sudden? And what kind of ultimatums?"

Running her hand through her tangled hair, Jane sighed, unsure of how to say what needed to be said. "The feds have been running their own operation into Cisco using an undercover female agent, but they've hit a stall. Cavanaugh basically gave me the option of helping out Dean along with Eric in a joint operation or sit on the sidelines until the brass gives me my full clearance back after that mess with the trial."

"So you chose the former."

"I didn't have much of a choice," Jane said sadly. "Sitting at my desk like a good little girl while the brass and internal affairs clears me back to full duty isn't my M.O., and you know that. I need to be involved, not sitting on the sidelines."

Maura smiled in understanding, before the smile dropped, replaced with a disapproving frown. "Are you going to be doing undercover work during this joint operation?"

As Jane slowly looked up with saddened eyes, the unexpected sound of the doorbell rang out through the house. The women immediately looked toward the door in bewilderment upon being rudely interrupted. Protectively, Jane stood up to answer it, her right hand instinctually moving to the comforting weight of her gun upon her waist.

She opened the door with her tough, intimidating face, wanting nothing more but to push the unwanted visitor away. Upon seeing the visitors, however, Jane knew that wouldn't be likely.

"Agent Dean," Jane turned to the bored blonde next to him, "and company. How lovely it is to see you after hours," she greeted coldly. Dean offered a small smile in reply while Lea stayed near the edge of the porch, hidden mostly in darkness despite the light coming from inside.

"You moved," Dean looked curiously around at the familiar surroundings, "to Maura's house. Being best friends is one thing, but moving in with each other? Seems kind of…odd."

You've gotta be kidding me, Jane thought. She had forgotten that Dean hadn't seen her since their one time fling nearly four years ago. Given his sudden arrival, Jane hadn't had much time to inform him of her…lifestyle adjustment. He had a right to know but telling him now, with Her Highness in tow, wasn't the best scenario to drop that kind of knowledge on anyone.

"We're saving on expenses by rooming together," Jane lied tactfully, taken aback at the subtle look of knowledgeable amusement on Lea's shadowed face. "Listen, Dean, I really don't have time to read your musings written in different color inks in your man-diary. Maura and I are about to have dinner, _which_ you aren't invited to, by the way."

In shock, Dean's confidence visibly deflated with a frown. "It's not a _man-diary_. I told you it was a journal kept by all federal agents for our mandatory, biannual psychological profile. The different inks are just a visual reminder of the days being recorded in the entries."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Gabriel. All I know is that I was forced to read manly thoughts concerning office politics that sounded dangerously similar to an adult male version of My Very First Diary," Jane said sarcastically. "Why are you even here? Haven't you fucked up my life enough for today?"

Dean deftly grabbed a folder from his satchel, handing it to the annoyed detective. Before Jane could have a chance to open the nondescript manila folder kept together with a rubber band, Dean stepped forward to stop her actions.

"Not out here," Dean whispered, looking around at their enclosed walkway as if several cameras were hiding in the darkness. "Everything you need to know about your alias is in there. Our profilers in Quantico didn't skimp on the basics," he took out a small business card for a bakery, "but if you need clarification on anything, call this number at any time. It'll link you directly to me. You're under my command now, Jane. I like members of my team to be well-informed about every step of an operation, big or small."

After taking the small beige cardstock from the agent, Jane stared at the small card with a dumb stare. All of the cloak and dagger nonsense that the feds specialized in brought to her attention that this joint-operation was going to be a lot bigger than the sketchily put together op that Eric would have come up with. Lives were going to be at stake. Capturing Cisco was going to require her to be on her absolute A-game, all alone, with no back-up in her corner.

_God, I must be smoking crack to think I could actually handle going undercover for something like this. I'm good, but I'm not _that_ good._

"If you need to daydream, do it on your own time," Dean interrupted, his tone leaving little room for discussion. "Lea needs to get ready for work, and I need to finish up some last preps on how to deal with the transition between you two with Bone. Call me once you look over the alias, and we'll meet at headquarters to get things finalized."

The two agents left silently out of the gate leading to the street where a lone, isolated black town-car idled unobtrusively by the curb. Jane was left standing out on the porch, in the mid-September brisk air, looking like a complete idiot.

The weight of the files in her hand gave the case an immediacy that it had lacked previously. And Maura's still in the dark, Jane thought, knowing now was the time to tell her girlfriend everything. I don't really have much of a choice.

"So you are going undercover," Maura said unexpectedly. Jane jumped up in surprise in response.

_I guess she heard everything…_

Jane closed the door and turned back to see Maura standing in the entrance of the foyer with a blank stare. Chomping on one of the now finished burritos, the blonde appeared nonchalant about the whole affair. Maybe she's not mad…

"I was about to tell you before he showed up." Jane walked over to the kitchen to grab the cooled off organic, gluten-free, slightly tasteless chicken burrito from the stove, eagerly chomping into the meal to distract her from the blonde shadowing her every movement. She hardly noticed setting the stack of files and business card down on the small kitchen island, completely focused on the task of filling her empty stomach.

"So tell me. Now."

"Can't I get a beer first?"

With a rare but surprisingly effective show of aggression, Maura yanked the burrito from Jane's hand, set the food on the counter, and pushed the shocked brunette into the corner between the sink and the refrigerator in a flash. Now trapped in a precarious position, Jane sighed.

"Don't play games with me, Jane," Maura growled, tightening her grip on Jane's lean arms. "Talk now or I'll make your life miserable until you do."

Jane frowned. "Meaning…"

With a wicked grin, Maura's eyes moved toward the couch. In response, Jane went slack-jawed as fear took over her lame attempts at bravado. _Oh sweet Jesus, not that…anything _but _that._

"You wouldn't…" Jane whimpered weakly.

"I've done it before."

Giving into the implied threat of the only punishment that truly made the strong, capable Jane Rizzoli go to her knees, the detective relaxed in her captor's stronghold.

"Cisco, Bone, whatever his name is, has a certain type that he likes with his…girlfriends that he keeps in his rotation. Using an undercover agent is the easiest opening to get valuable information to bring the entire black market drug smuggling to a halt and get Cisco in custody."

Maura frowned. "Can't you just watch him until he does something to warrant arrest?"

"He's already suspicious of anything out of the ordinary. A bunch of black, unlicensed, government cars tailing him at all times will tip him off for sure, leaving us with nothing," Jane explained, mind quickly factoring various plans as they talked things out. "He's already been burned in Boston before, Maura. I highly doubt he's going to stick around if things get hot."

With a sigh, Maura stepped back, allowing the detective to move freely. "So you're his type, I presume."

"Tall, dark, and handsome," Jane joked, flinging her hair proudly over her shoulder. "What can I say? Cisco has good taste."

But Maura was having none of the brunette's lame attempts at humor. "This isn't funny, Jane."

Walking back to the counter, Jane grabbed her forgotten and lukewarm burrito with a frown before heading to the stack of folder sitting forlornly nearby. As her hunger dissipated so did her desire to eat the burrito as she casually flipped through the various files of the alias to be used for her cover story. Well, at least I know that cold healthy food tastes exactly the same as healthy food, Jane mused before throwing the nasty, coagulated gluten-free meal in the trash.

"Dean wasn't kidding about not skimping on basics," Jane said. She was amazed at the level of detail the records had. "It's like this Kate Jones person is actually alive. Way better than our techies did when I was in the Drug Unit."

"Who's Kate Jones?"

"My undercover alias set up by the feds." Jane pushed the files over to Maura, so she could look through them. "I can't believe how detailed they can get in setting all this up. They've even included a birth certificate and a passport with stamped entries to various countries to reflect my…international status."

"Jane?" Maura asked quietly after skimming the information quickly.

"Yeah?"

"I don't want you to do this."

And with those simple words, Jane felt a burden lift from her shoulders in relief. Maura stated what she had been feeling since getting shackled with the task in Cavanaugh's office.

Jane loved her job, couldn't imagine not being a detective in some capacity or other, but responsibilities to her family came first. She had nearly learned that the hard way during the first year of their relationship. Going undercover, now of all times, wasn't an option.

"I don't want to either," Jane confessed, lowering her head in exhaustion. "But I'm at a loss as to what I can do to get out of this."

Maura frowned upon noticing the small business card. "Maybe the answer is right in front of you. You can't possibly be the _only_ detective with undercover experience and who fits Bone's requirements of being," she lowered her voice in a facsimile impression of Jane, "tall, dark, and handsome."

Suddenly, the solution came to Jane's attention as if it had been there all along. Duh, why didn't I think of that before? As usual, Maura had given the detective a helping hand toward an obvious answer. Despite still developing in her head, the burgeoning plan seemed to work.

"Jane," Maura asked, quietly, noticing the spinning wheels in the brunette's head. "Did I say something wrong?"

Jane stood up to her full height, eyes glowing in excitement. "Honey, I know you're going to hate me for this but-"

"You've gotta go," Maura smiled, mimicking Jane's response. "It's alright. I've accepted the fact that my soul mate is the Wonder Woman of Boston."

"You sure?" Jane asked, grabbing the business card and stuffed manila folder off the counter after checking her waist for her badge and gun.

"If I wasn't sure, you'd know, sweetheart. Go on and save the world like always. Just make sure you don't wake me up when you come in."

Jane raised an eyebrow in amusement. "I thought you liked it when I woke you up after work?"

"You're incorrigible," Maura laughed, rolling her eyes at the brunette. "Sometimes I think I'm living with a _very_ pretty man in _very_ convincing drag."

"Funny," Jane muttered, kissing her girlfriend goodbye. "I'll be an hour at the most."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that lie and we'll see who'll be rocking the hives."

With a smile, Jane grabbed her coat and the car keys off the table in the foyer before heading out into the cold night air. _Jesus Christ, it's getting cold earlier this year. It might even snow instead of sleet for once. White Christmas with Maura would be nice._

But those were thoughts for another time. The beautiful, sleek lines of the Aston came into view, parked in its usual spot just as Jane began to take out her iPhone to punch in the memorized number on the business card. Within two rings, a pleasant voice with no discernible gender answered.

"Federal Bakery, how can I help you?"

"Dean," Jane sighed exasperatedly. "I know it's you. We need to talk."

"About?"

Jane opened the door and the smell of fine leather wrapped itself around her. "I need to make some executive changes to this undercover op, starting immediately."


	14. Chapter 14

-/-/-Chapter 14-/-/-

As Jane drove up to the nondescript brick building, she carefully checked the directions that Eric had given her regarding the location of the headquarters. The fence was painted white and freshly planted flowers gave a friendly atmosphere to the depressing exterior of the home, running contrary to her expectations. Throughout the entire thirty minute drive, Jane had imagined a dowdy shack in the middle of nowhere given how quickly Dean had claimed they had moved after getting word of Bone's return.

It must be nice to have an indispensable budget, Jane thought, walking up to the door.

With a sigh, Jane rapped her knuckles on the door twice, waiting for some recognition of life. The combination of the chilly weather and unique energy that developed on the streets of Boston as soon as the sun went down, the detective shuffled in place, eager to get out of the cold. Back when she was working a beat, these conditions wouldn't have fazed her, youthful exuberance and swagger being all she needed to protect against the elements.

But that had been nearly a lifetime ago.

She wasn't old, by any stretch of the imagination, but the recklessness of her youth had been supplanted with wisdom and responsibility. It's hard to fly by the seat of your pants when you've got a girlfriend at home who's about to carry our child for nine months.

As much as it concerned her that they were going to start a family together, Jane couldn't bear the idea of leaving Maura for months on end to go deep undercover.

_Maura needs me to be there; and I need to be there for her. It might run contrary to Dean's "plans", but he's just going to have to accept what I've come up with._

But that could wait. Her main priority was getting out of the damn cold. With a raised eyebrow, Jane glared at the solid, wood door mocking her with its impenetrable silence. The familiar sensation of liquid frustration began working through her veins, the heat both welcome and unwelcome. It had been nearly five minutes with _no_ response. Am I even at the right fucking door?

"Later that same day…" Jane muttered, stretching out her frozen extremities. "This is ridiculous. Leave it to Agent Gabriel 'I-Cry-Myself-To-Sleep-Every-Night' Dean to tell me to come to an empty building," she growled in a weak attempt at a whisper.

Etiquette gone, the detective angrily slammed her fist on the door with the force of battering ram, forgetting that she was in a residential neighborhood.

"This isn't funny, Dean!" Jane exclaimed furiously. "Answer the goddamn door. I will knock it down if I have to!"

As if acquiescing to her threat, the door slowly opened, the brightly lit interior of the temporary headquarters and Dean's typical unemotional face revealed before her. "For a detective, you have zero patience."

"I shouldn't have to have patience. I'm not making a cake. I just want to get out of the cold and talk to you," Jane yelled. She lowered her voice upon hearing her booming voice echo against the cold walls. "What's with the wait?"

Dean ushered her inside after giving a cursory glance behind her to make sure the brunette hadn't been followed. "Sorry 'bout that. We do a visual check on everyone who's unfamiliar, including the delivery guy. It can take a minute, but for a small team like ours it usually doesn't cause many problems." He led them through the foyer toward the upstairs, waving at a group of agents in street clothes in the kitchen pouring coffee. "Did you have any problems finding the place? It's a little out of the way."

"I've lived in Boston my entire life, Dean. Nothing is out of the way to me."

"Well that's good. I was worried you'd get lost."

They reached the second floor of the house, and Jane immediately recognized that this was the hub of the feds' operation. Each room had been overhauled for the specific purposes needed by Dean's team; everything from audio-visuals to a hastily put together conference room filled with high-tech television sets with up-to-date communication equipment was available for whatever the operation required. Various agents and support staff in plains-clothes filled the rooms. Some even gave the detective a curious look before returning to whatever task had been assigned to them.

Now this is an operation, Jane thought, amazed at all of the hustle and bustle. It was like walking onto a movie set with how much technology and busy people filled the small residential space.

"Isn't it kind of weird to be using a residential house as a headquarters?" Jane asked curiously, mouth agape at all of the activity.

Dean chuckled slightly as he continued to lead them to a room near the back of the hallway. "This is a safe-house, not headquarters. Headquarters is in Washington," he explained. "We needed something large enough but discreet enough as a base to work in safely, not to mention a place that had a flexible rent schedule given how long this operation could potentially go for."

"You don't think the owner is going to mind you totaling their house?"

"We'll have everything looking the way it was before we leave." Dean looked over at the brunette with a smile. "What's with the concern? You never worried about the details before."

"Things have changed since the last time I've seen you, Dean."

They strode into a room with a large television screen showing a live feed of Bone languishing on his couch in his penthouse with the blonde agent from earlier – now with shocking, auburn hair – sitting next to him, a bored expression on her face. Surprised to see his familiar face so soon, Jane stood in shock as her mind took in the image of a man she had never expected to see again.

Despite the ten plus years, his face retained the ability to establish fear with how gaunt and rough-hewn he still looked. The dark, tan skin sat on his high cheekbones like a dirty coat, completely lifeless with age. A singular braid of long, black hair trailed behind him with the proud authority of an experienced stallion defending his territory, lending even more credence to her earlier assumption that the man had Native roots. But, just like all those years ago, what first got Jane's attention was the jagged scar running from his forehead down to his cheek. The message was clear. Don't fuck around with me.

Jane shivered in anxious fear, memories of inexperience from her past coming back to haunt her. Can we really take down an entire international drug smuggling operation when going up against _that_? The first time they had tried to take down Cisco it had been her inexperience and stupidity that had allowed him to get away. What's to say this won't be any different?

"We're going to get him," a familiar voice echoed from far away, "even if it kills me."

Jane turned toward the voice to see Eric sitting in one of the free chairs surrounding the large table in front of the television. Dressed in khakis and a black motorcycle jacket, Eric looked every bit of the bad boy that contradicted his usual professional demeanor. As he calmly cut into his steaming chocolate chip-raisin muffin, Eric's attention remained focus on the screen, seemingly mesmerized to be this close to the man that had taken his entire life away.

"So you picked up a late-night snack and decided to drive to the opposite side of town to watch Dean work?" Jane asked sarcastically, walking over to the prosecutor with a smile. "That's awfully dedicated, Prosecutor."

Eric shrugged diffidently. "Just doing my job, Detective. Gotta make sure everything is on the up and up from a legal standpoint. The last thing we want is a mess like last time."

"Well, I can assure you that we'll probably be handling Cisco in federal court so that doesn't happen," Dean said argumentatively. "You're just a legal advisor."

"That's not what you told me earlier," Eric spat back. In typical male fashion, he had taken the obvious bait, allowing their feud to continue anew.

"Things change to suit the needs of the operation."

Eric laughed. "You mean to better suit your needs to show off your masculine authority and keep me under control, so I don't fuck up again."

"At least we're on the same page," Dean frowned coldly.

With a loud cough, Jane grabbed a piece of Eric's muffin before turning back to Dean. The semi-sweet chocolate chips and warm raisins oozed in her mouth as she chewed. "If you two are going to argue like a bunch of animals then do it when I'm not here."

"Fine," Dean grumbled, giving one last glare at the smirking prosecutor. "So what are these changes you want to make? If it's about your alias, it's not a problem."

_Here goes nothing…_

"First, I want Detective Frost and Sergeant Korsak in on this operation as well. Korsak's experience with these types of cases is second to none, and Frost is a technical wizard. I'd feel a lot better working with my own team on this. No offense," Jane said, motioning toward all of the activity going on in the safe-house.

Dean nodded. "I was actually going to suggest that myself."

_That's one down._

"Second," Jane sighed heavily, preparing herself for the inevitable backlash. "I can't do this."

Both Dean and Eric did a double-take as their minds processed her words. Dean was the first to react. "What do you mean, 'I can't do this?' Getting Cisco can't happen without you, Jane. If you're worried that's fine, but we need your involvement-"

Noticing the decisive look on Jane's face, Eric raised an eyebrow. "Calm down, Dean. Let her finish."

"I'm not excluding myself from further involvement. I'll gladly work as a field commander, but my responsibilities at home are my first priority."

"Responsibilities?" Dean repeated, incredulously. "What kind of responsibilities? You're a single woman working as a homicide detective. When do you have time to have these so called responsibilities?"

"Wow, someone is Mr. Sensitive," Eric muttered sarcastically.

Jane rolled her eyes. "I don't need to tell you everything that goes on in my life."

Suddenly, Dean shook his head, offering a hand in comfort to the brunette who quickly slapped it away. "Hey, I'm sorry. You don't have to offer up some lame lie because you're uncomfortable about the two of us working together after our…moment of intimacy." He smiled in understanding. "It was great what we had. But I won't let it get in the way of our work. If you're worried about working together-"

"What?" Jane interrupted loudly. She saw in the corner of her eye that Eric seemed just as shocked as she was at Dean's reasoning.

For Eric, this was the first time he had heard of her brief romance with the agent, but Jane couldn't believe Dean would really think that she was A) lying and B) had any sort of feelings for him that could get in the way of work. Did he really think she was just some love-sick girl waiting for him to notice her? In a second, she felt the anger from earlier surging back against her will, her lips forming syllables her mind had yet to process.

"Dean, fuck you for even saying that, nonetheless, thinking a stupid idea like that. When have I ever let my feelings get in the way of my work? Never," Jane said. "And I don't have feelings for you. My responsibilities have _nothing_ to do with you."

Dean frowned, taken aback. "Then what are your responsibilities?"

God, can't he let sleeping dogs lie? The last thing she wanted was to tell Dean about her relationship with Maura and their family plans, but if he kept pushing, she didn't see much of a choice in the matter.

"I'm with someone. Someone that means a lot to me," Jane confessed awkwardly.

Dean blinked dumbly. "What? I don't understand."

Unable to hold back his laughter any longer, Eric released a loud guffaw, echoing through the room in endless waves. Each peal of laughter shuddered through his strong, athletic frame, causing him to double over in genuine amusement. Jane and Dean watched the prosecutor with comical faces of confusion as they waited for him to return from his fit of laughter.

"So…you…haven't told…him yet," Eric wheezed, wiping the tears from his eyes. "He doesn't know about you and Maura? God, this is going to be fantastic."

Jane frowned pitifully. "Eric…"

Despite this exchange, Dean remained completely and utterly oblivious, looking between them in confusion. "Know what about you and Maura? That you two are living together?"

For a second time, Eric let out another round of laughter, before finally getting up with his remaining muffin. "Oh my god, this is too good."

"Eric, go downstairs and get some coffee," Jane growled, all but pushing him out of the room.

"Oh c'mon, Jane! This is going to be a YouTube moment for the ages. I can't miss this."

"You're such a jackass," she whispered, slapping the prosecutor on the back of the head.

Used to the abuse, Eric smirked. "No, I'm not. I just enjoy seeing other people in pain, especially people I can't stand like Douchey Mr. Douche over here."

Jane narrowed her eyebrows like a mother to a petulant child. "I'll tell you about it later. In the meantime, leave a message for Cavanaugh. Tell him I need to borrow some people," she commanded, handing him a slip of folded paper. "Got it?"

Eric pouted dramatically before taking the piece of paper and trudging downstairs dejectedly. Returning her attention back to Dean's still confused face, she walked them over to a couple of seats in the now quiet room away from the live feed of Lea playing with Bone's long braid of hair.

"If he's laughing, it must not be good," Dean joked weakly.

Jane smiled, unsure of how to begin. She hadn't been expecting to engage in this conversation until much, much later down the road. Eric's playful teasing and Dean's curiosity had put a squash to that idea, however. There was no way to begin a conversation like this delicately and if there was, she didn't know it.

"Dean," Jane said sympathetically, as if he was a family member of a victim of homicide. "I just want to let you know that what I'm about to say has no bearing on…your masculinity."

"Okay…"

"Maura and I are…um, together. We've been together since the whole mess that happened at BPD."

"You mean…like sleeping together? In the same bed? Naked?"

Jane frowned. She never could understand why people went directly to sex. Whenever she told anyone about their relationship,the first thing people went to is envisioning them tussling in between sweaty sheets as if having intimate relationships with the same sex equaled fucking and only fucking. What about the other 99 percent of the time? As much as Jane loved making love to Maura, they didn't spend all day everyday eating each other out and pounding each other into submission with dildos.

"Yeah…that's what I mean," she said, ignoring her mental thoughts.

Narrowing his eyes, Dean looked down at his hands uncomfortably before attempting a weak smile. "Oh…so you two are _living_ together not rooming together," he said slowly.

Dean's mind struggled to connect the dots, finally managing to come to terms with the news after a brief silence. "Even with…all that, I still don't see how this affects you going undercover." As if realizing the awkwardness of the entire conversation, the blushing agent shook his head furiously. "But, you know what, don't tell me. I think my brain might officially explode if you tell me anything else involving…your personal life. Sorry for pushing you to tell me like I did. It was…insensitive."

"It's alright. You had every right to ask. If anything, I'm sorry for having to tell you like this," Jane apologized. "But I can assure you that me not going undercover has nothing to do with this case."

With saddened eyes, Dean nodded. "I guess we'll have to find someone else on the federal payroll that fits Bone's requirements."

"I've already thought of that, and I've got the perfect girl in mind."

"Care to share that knowledge?"

"Detective Riley Cooper, she's new to Homicide, but she has extensive prior experience working deep undercover cases like this. If anyone can handle the demands of this operation, it's her."

As Dean looked up her information on his phone, Jane waited patiently. She hoped he would agree to let Riley go undercover with Cisco. It was extremely risky to even suggest the new female detective for this potentially high profile role, but Jane had little choice. Riley was the best fit and, unlike having a random fed agent come in, she actually knew the younger female detective.

She can handle this, I know she can, Jane thought with conviction.

Looking up from his phone, Dean drummed his fingers against the table. "She does seem like a good fit on paper."

"But you want insurance."

Dean nodded. "I haven't worked with her before, Jane. If the shit hits the fan, I'd like to have some kind of a safety net for her and my operation."

"And I have a solution for that as well," Jane replied confidently. "My brother, Frankie, is looking to get his gold shield. He's got plenty of field experience and knows how to handle himself in tough situations. I can assure you that he'll keep watch over Riley in the field to make sure she and the operation runs smoothly."

Raising his eyebrow in disbelief, Dean sighed, knowing he had little argument against the validity of allowing Jane's modifications to pass. "You really don't want to get in the field, do you?"

"No, not particularly."

With a heavy sigh, Dean massaged his forehead in an effort to reevaluate his plans to fit these new developments. Riley was risky but an understandable risk that he could plan accordingly around. Frankie, on the other hand, was a big, bright, red flag that held little potential value besides fucking everything up. He wasn't even a detective yet. But Jane had never been the kind of woman to support nepotism. If she said he was a good cop then he was.

"Do you think they can handle this, Jane?" Dean asked, gazing at the brunette honestly. "This isn't a simple case. Things could get easily out of hand. Ensuring this kind of responsibility to a fresh detective and a patrol cop with something to prove is beyond risky."

Jane shrugged. "I guess we'll soon find out if they're ready for the task."


	15. Chapter 15

-/-/-Chapter 15-/-/-

The next morning, back at the Rizzoli-Isles home, a small snore rose up from the wrapped bundle of sheets on their king-sized bed. A ruffled tuft of sun-kissed hair peeked out from the tumbled mass of comforter, completely oblivious to the muffled sounds of activity coming from downstairs.

Dreams of a tomboyish princess rescuing a beautiful blonde in a doctor's coat from a tower of rude men and lab specimens put a smile on the subconscious medical examiner's face. The princess was just about to lay the blonde down in a sea of flowers after taking her away from the mindless repetitious work and male zombies. As her curtain of chocolate curls descended down, protecting them from all harm, their lips met in a warm kiss…until a burst of sunlight from the half-closed blinds burst the sleeping woman from the bliss of fantasy and back to harsh reality.

Maura groaned in complaint, struggling to snuggle back into the warmth of sleep. "No…not yet. I don't want to wake up. My princess was about to show her love…"

"And I did," a familiar husky voice said playfully. "But I guess I can always take my display back to my castle and enjoy it alone."

With a lazy smile, Maura rose from the covers just as Jane began to carefully enter their bedroom with a tray of steaming breakfast. The medical examiner had a thing about knowing where her food came from – how can you not when your diet has to have no gluten, soy, corn, beef, fish, or artificial enhancements in any way? – and, much to Maura's happiness, the normally lazy detective had made all breakfast from scratch. Knowing how much Jane's cooking skills left much to be desired, getting a proper meal from her was an achievement in of itself.

Well, this is weird, Maura thought. The last time the brunette had cooked for her without a holiday or significant reason to warrant the occasion was during their impromptu vacation to Tahiti. Jane had used every romance trick in the book to help her get over Clementine.

As Maura quickly went through the list of things that she could have missed, Jane carefully set down the tray on the rough outline of her lap in the entanglement of sheets.

"It's not my birthday," Maura smiled curiously, unsure of the correct response to offer. "Unless…did I rock your globe last night because I don't remember doing that."

"World, honey," Jane corrected with a grin. "The expression is 'rock your world' not 'rock your globe.' Rocking someone's globe sounds like a slang term for a very dirty, sexual act."

In confusion, Maura tilted her head. "But the globe is a representation of the world, so, therefore, I'm technically correct."

"Whatever floats your boat, honey," Jane said resignedly. She shook her head in amusement.

Maura clapped her hands in childish excitement, her smile infectious. As the wonderful smells of Jane's breakfast feast wafted around the room, she looked down at all of the tasty – and fattening – entrees her girlfriend had made for her.

Jane's breakfast specialty, a breakfast pizza with cheese, sausage, egg, and veggies, sat next to Maura's personal favorite: apple strudel. To put the final touches on what promised to be a fabulous surprise, the brunette had even included orange juice and _café au lait_, served in a large bowl in accordance to the French style.

With closed eyes, Maura absorbed the unique nostalgic aroma of strudel and coffee combining with the new pairing of breakfast pizza. _They blend so well together._

"You like?" Jane asked quietly so as not to disturb the moment of silence.

Maura nodded, opening her eyes. "But what I'd really like is if you told me what brought you to do this. You just woke up during the wee hours of the morning and decided, 'I'm going to don my Kiss-The-Detective apron and make my girlfriend a home-cooked meal even though I struggle at times to make cereal in the morning?'" she asked incredulously, pointing at the orange and red apron bought for her by Maura during last year's Secret Santa gift exchange. "Jane, do you really think that I'm that gullible?"

"Maybe I just wanted to show you how much I love waking up to that pretty face every morning?"

Maura laughed, causing the slivers of sunlight to dance throughout her sleep tousled tresses. "Liar, liar, pants on fire," she teased, sipping at the coffee beverage.

"I'll tell you while we eat," Jane encouraged, begging subconsciously for approval with her best puppy-dog eyes. "Pretty please with whipped cream and chocolate covered cherries on top?"

"Fine, fine, fine. You know how much I luff me chocolate. Just stop with the droopy, big eyes. You remind me of Jo looking for a snack after a walk."

With a large grin, Maura eagerly began to dig into a slice of breakfast pizza, leaving the warm strudel for last. The gooey flavors of cheese, egg, sausage, and veggies brought a moan of delight to her lips while Jane grabbed a piece for herself, watching her girlfriend's various responses quietly.

"So yummy," Maura said. She finished the first slice and quickly began to snatch up another. "All those cracks I made about your cooking ability were rude and insensitive. You do have occasional displays of brilliance."

Jane beamed, happy for the compliment. "I get by when I need to."

Suddenly, the detective narrowed her eyes, playfully tapping the naked, freckled shoulder of her girlfriend. Maura released a surprised yelp, before pushing Jane back in faux annoyance.

"Hey!" Maura exclaimed. "You're cold."

"Well, you wouldn't know that if you didn't decide to sleep _naked_. Imagine my surprise when I came in last night to see my girlfriend snuggling with my dog _in the nude_ while reciting Fibonacci numbers and the calculation of pi to how many decimals, even though she gets on _my_ case regularly about the same thing." Jane ran her hand through the woman's wild, golden locks, bringing an adorable child-like smile to the detective's face. "Congratulations, Dr. Isles. You've won the 98th annual hypocrite award. Do you have a speech prepared to celebrate your achievement?"

"Shut-up, the only reason I slept naked in the first place is because I missed you," Maura pouted, endearingly, sticking out her tongue in defiance. "Jo didn't seem to mind."

"Don't you have your own pet to snuggle?"

"I hope you don't mean Bass. The last time we snuggled, he bit me on my tit when I was fifteen. It was beyond embarrassing to have to go to the doctor to explain to him and my mother – uncomfortably, by the way – that I wasn't experimenting with rough sex or bondage during our summer holiday in South Africa, it was just Bass, my tortoise, and not my BDSM master." Maura shook her head in disgust. "Mother still manages to bring it up every year like it's the funniest thing since Groucho Marx."

Umm…okay, so many things odd about that sentence, Jane thought with a cringe. Leave it to Maura to have an odd story to explain an even odder situation. She had since stopped questioning these tales of unusualness, accepting them as one of the medical examiner's various personality quirks.

As the two women ate and drank to their hearts content, Jane sighed, unable to hold it in any longer. "I'm sorry…for everything."

So that's what this is, Maura mused. Jane was horrible at discussing her emotions. It was a known fact. At times, she could manage to get the words out; but, most of the time, she was left looking horribly inept in the emotional department. It hardly helped that she was an emotional person by nature, thriving on the close chats unique to female relationships. Things suffered at times in their relationship because of these differences, but Maura knew they both were willing to work with each other to help them overcome their communication differences.

Maura had tried to assist the detective in opening up with various trust exercises but no luck. As a result of these failed attempts, she had gradually come to terms that Jane was much better at demonstrating her feelings instead of pontificating on them.

"About leaving yesterday or not telling me about your undercover situation?"

Jane shrugged with her head down, shamed at her behavior. "Both."

Putting down her remaining crust of the last slice of pizza, Maura grabbed Jane by the front of the apron to bring her close. "Jane," she whispered encouragingly, blowing a piece of wayward hair out of the detective's face. "Look at me."

Reluctantly, Jane lifted her eyes toward her passionate girlfriend, finding a well of hidden strength within those compassionate, strong-willed, hazel orbs.

"You're a detective, honey. This is your job. As much as I would like it if you had a less strenuous job that didn't require you to run off in the middle of the night and keeping some things from me, I know that you don't mean to."

"But don't you see? This is the problem. I can't be a mother and keep secrets from you and run out at odd hours. It's…unbelievably selfish to you and the baby."

Maura frowned. "So you want to quit being a detective?"

"What?" Jane exclaimed, bewilderedly. "That never even crossed my mind! I can't just up and quit the career that gives me my identity, my voice."

"Then why are you complaining about an accepted fact? Being a detective requires certain…actions to ensure the safety of you and your loved ones. If and when it becomes a problem, I'll let you know, but, until then, focus on the present. Can you do that for me?"

"But that just feels wrong."

"Sometimes doing the right thing feels wrong."

After a brief silence, Jane nodded weakly. "I'll try," she said, attempting a weak smile. "So…are you gonna eat the strudel?"

"Obviously, since it's on my plate…"

"What if I suggest a trade?"

Maura narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "I really like my _apfelstrudel_, Jane. This trade had better be worth it."

Moving the half-empty tray off to the side, Jane took off the stupid apron before straddling the amused blonde. Their eyes locked in silent negotiation as her curious hands began to move suggestively toward Maura's glowing expanse of freckled skin, slowly revealing itself to her welcome motions.

"This isn't a trade," Maura whispered, lowering her body to give Jane more access. "Trades are an equal give and take. I'd say this is more like a forced bribe."

"A kiss for half of your strudel."

"I don't think that sounds like a fair trade."

Jane smirked. "I think I can make a kiss balance out," she growled, simmering lust now threatening to spill over and wash them both away. "You always say I'm so good at starting fires. Some early morning heat in exchange for some strudel."

Before Maura could issue a smartass remark, Jane rendered her speechless, using her talented tongue to enforce her spell over the rapt blonde. Their tongues danced and flitted together, teasing the other to react. Patience was a virtue that Jane lacked as she found herself losing ground to her girlfriend's knowledgeable tactics.

Damn it, Jane cursed. The submissive prey had turned the tables with a sly hand managing to work itself to the brunette's vulnerable and sensitive back, knowing the feel of her short nails scratching against the skin would be just the impetus required to throw the hunter off balance.

"Maura…stop it," Jane said in a hoarse voice. She wanted nothing more for the tingly feeling of satisfaction to continue dancing down her vertebrae.

"Uh-uh," Maura replied in a weak whisper, overcome by the need to take control. "I want to play."

"What about the trade…"

Maura leaned Jane close, allowing the detective to keep her lips occupied on a much more important part of her anatomy. "Fuck the trade. I'll give you the entire thing if we can keep doing this just…," her index finger crept up to Jane's shoulder blade just as her bare leg wrapped possessively around the brunette's hard, lean thigh, "continue doing this…," the other fingers slowly inched their way up as well, allowing Maura to lock her body against Jane's, "forever."

"You're killing me," Jane managed to growl out in between playful nips and nibbles.

"Such a melodramatic," Maura whispered, before a small moan of satisfaction burst from her throat.

As a full-fledged scream threatened to come from Jane's own lungs in response, an unexpected bark and reptilian hiss interjected, leaving both women in a state of lustful shock. What the hell was that?

"Ohh, is that my little Bassmeister coming to give me his good morning wishes?" Maura cooed happily upon noticing their unwelcome visitor. "And you brought little Jo along also? Did Jane walk you this morning? I bet she didn't. You know how focused she can get."

"Ruff-ruff!"

"Really? Well, that's good. One thing I don't have to worry about. And I bet you looked so cute in your red doggie sweater."

"Rruff!" Jo wagged her tail eagerly, performing a little dance for her two masters while Bass tried to snap at the fast-moving dog's legs. "Ruff, ruff!"

"Such a cutey. Would you like some _apfelstrudel_, Jo?"

Slack-jawed in amazement, Jane opened her eyes to see her girlfriend moving to give Jo a piece of strudel as if she wasn't even there. In a drop of a hat, Maura's attention had shifted to their pets, leaving feeling her completely on edge.

_Damn it, Jo! This isn't the first time you've interrupted us. I didn't like it the first time, and I certainly don't appreciate it now. Damn fucking shit-wad of a dog…_

"Jo!" Jane yelled at the dog jumping happily upon receiving a piece of the pastry. "Stop doing that! Maura and I are busy. Take Bass and leave."

"Ruff-ruff…," Jo whimpered, head lowered in misery.

But Jane was having none of the sad, puppy-dog eyes. "Go, Jo. If I have to get up, I'll put you outside in the backyard. In the cold. Without that god awful sweater Maura insists on making you wear."

With a hurt bark, Jo quickly ran out of the room with Bass – in his usual slow way – following close behind his four-legged canine friend. Jane sighed lifting herself up from Maura's prone body, knowing the moment between them had passed.

_All it takes is a second for everything to change._

"Damn you two," Jane pouted, taking half of the strudel off the plate on the tray. "Next time, I'll just put them in a crate beforehand."

Smiling apologetically, Maura embraced the tense detective. "They don't mean to interrupt, sweetheart. For animals, copulation-"

"Eugh…vomit," Jane interrupted. "Did you have to use that verb?"

"Is a relatively quick procedure," Maura continued as if she had never been interrupted. "They don't understand the…effort that goes into homo-sapien sexual relations."

"I don't think _I_ understand homo-sapien sexual relations. Can't you just say 'We're having sex' or 'making love' instead of turning it into a forum on mating behavior?" Jane released a heavy sigh of frustration. "Bass and Jo are perpetual cockblocks. Discussion over."

"Cockblocks?" Maura asked. "You mean the act of preventing cocks? From what are they preventing cocks from though? And how is that relevant given our current lack of cocks? Unless… Are you talking about a gamecock? I kept several well-bred Bantams back in boarding school for our annual livestock show. It was to help increase our respect of nature, but imagine my surprise when the schoolmasters took them away to _kill_ them for our Thanksgiving dinner. Can you believe they did that? I loved my cocks…especially little Normandy."

"How do you manage to do this?"

"Do what?"

"Change a normal conversation into an expose on odd."

Maura shrugged before removing her naked body from the tangled sheets. "Hmm…I'm not sure. A high favorable consequential ratio, I guess?"

Jane shook her head after running a shaking hand through her loose curls. Regardless of what her girlfriend might think, she was seriously considering doing something about their pets allowance to walk – or in Bass's case, shuffle – freely around the house. It was unbelievably frustrating to finally have some blessed alone time with the woman she loved just to have it interrupted by a turtle and his canine buddy being nosy.

And god forbid when a kid came around, Jane thought ruefully. If she thought pets were a constant distraction, she didn't even want to consider how pent-up she'd become when a little bundle was taking up all of their time. All of her friends with kids had mentioned something about sex being the last thing on their minds after the baby was born, but giving up sex wasn't an option for the detective.

_It might sound silly, but sex is our time to…reconnect. I'll die without it._

"Jane? Earth to Detective Badass, it's your girlfriend calling," Maura joked, now wearing a pair of the brunette's sleeping boxers and an old Bullet and Blast convention t-shirt. "Did you hear me?"

Shaking her head, Jane turned her attention back to her girlfriend coming to sit next to her on the end of the bed. "You said something?"

"I'm just going to ignore that last statement," Maura smiled, playfully punching her in the stomach. "Okay, rewind button. What happened with Dean and company last night? Did you get a plan figured out?"

Hearing the subtle anxiety, Jane gave a beaming smile and recapped for Maura all of the events of last night, spending a great deal of time explaining the request she made to bring Riley, Frost, Frankie, and Korsak in on this operation as well. From Maura's face, Jane could tell she was skeptical about pairing Frankie with Riley on an operation this big, given their history, but she wasn't worried.

Frankie is just as ready to handle this as Riley is, Jane thought committedly. Their familial status had little to do with her decision. As his older sister, Jane wanted Frankie to get his shot to prove to the higher ups that he was ready for the big time but, more importantly, he had proven himself ready for the opportunity. Why not take a chance on him?

"Jane…" Maura began slowly, not wanting to cause undue friction between them. "Frankie is a great cop. Everyone knows that. But rushing him to do something this…complex might not be in your best interest. I know you want someone who you can trust working with Riley and keeping her safe. That's understandable."

"But?"

"_But_ this isn't just Frankie taking a risk, this is you and everyone associated with this operation's shared risk." Twiddling her thumbs nervously, Maura looked at the brunette's darkened eyes searchingly, trying to delve deeper for the answer she sought. "I just want to make sure you've thought about this and I mean _really_ thought it through."

"Listen, honey-"

"No," Maura said commandingly. Her voice left little room for discussion. "You listen to _me_ for a minute. Acting spontaneously is all well and good when you're only responsible for yourself but when you're a leader of a team that's depending on you… I just want to make sure you're making smart decisions."

Jane frowned. "Maura, this isn't my first rodeo."

"I know, I know," Maura replied. "I'm just reminding you to think before you leap."

Umm…okay? Where was the worrywart coming from? Jane didn't know whether to call her girlfriend out on her unusual comment or leave it alone when she wasn't so hyped up on unresolved sexual tension and strudel.

As if understanding the mental dilemma beginning in her head, Maura stretched and poked the brunette in the sensitive scar tissue. "Why do they call him The Cisco Kid anyway? Is it a pun or something?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean, 'You don't know?'" Maura pouted.

"I mean, I. Don't. Know. You want me to lie to you?"

"No, it's just…well, haven't you asked Dean or Eric? Surely, they'd know."

Jane shrugged dismissively. "They'll tell you the same thing. It's a street name. A lot of drug lords take various nicknames on the street as a brand. I took down a guy that called himself The Blood King back in my Drug Unit days."

"I don't think I understand," Maura said. She nervously chewed on her nail in thought. "So is it like a nickname? Like how I call you Jeddy-Bear sometimes?"

_Oh dear lord, not that name again._ Jane hated her pet-name and refused to respond to it given how embarrassingly cute it was. Originally, the name had come from Maura's comment back when they were still in the honeymoon stage of their relationship that Jane was like her very own gun wielding teddy-bear. Stupidly, she had allowed Maura to make a portmanteau out of it – that's what happens when you're in the honeymoon stage, you allow stupid things to happen because it's all so "new" and "romantic" – and the name had, sadly, stuck. At least she could get some solace knowing that Maura's own pet-name was just as ridiculous.

When you get down to it, every pet name is ridiculous outside of the relationship in which it originated. Back when she had been Eric's fiancée, she had called him, wait for it, Houdini. Yeah…that's an example of a don't ask, don't tell.

"Jane," Maura interrupted, tapping her bare foot against the plush carpet. "You're ignoring me."

Jane smiled. "Now you know how it feels."

With a playful tug of the brunette's long hair, Maura stood up, heading toward the half-opened door of the bathroom.

"Oww, Maura!" Jane exclaimed, rubbing her head dramatically. "Again with the abuse."

"I'm going to take a bath. Feel free to join me after you make the bed."

"Oh, c'mon! You were the last one snuggling up in the sheets. _And_ I made breakfast." Jane grabbed the remaining the strudel on the tray, popping the warm pastry in her mouth with a gooey smile. "Isn't that worth something?"

"Just because you hate making the bed doesn't mean pouting will you get you out of it."

"Please…"

Maura shook her head. "Absolutely not. I did it yesterday. Now it's your turn. Don't break schedule just because you're sexually frustrated."

Damn it, I forgot about that, Jane thought miserably. How, she had no idea, given the unbelievable pressure still pressing for release. The prospect of playing Holly Homemaker was quickly losing its appeal to other, more pleasurable, activities that could be in the cards if she joined Maura.

"Maura…," Jane begged pitifully, staring at the sheets with a heavy frown.

"The quicker you get it done," Maura smiled. "The more time we'll have to play in the sudsy bubbles and warm water. And I know how much you like splashing the water around."

Unable to speak, Jane nodded weakly, practically drooling onto the carpet in unabashed lust. _God, what this woman does to me._

"Then chop to it. I'll draw the water _extra_ slow for you," Maura said. She headed into the bath with a sultry look before closing the door behind her.

Jane frowned. "It's _hop _to it, Maura. Not chop to it."

"Whatever! You know what I mean," Maura replied, her voice muffled over the sound of running water and the thickness of the door.

I hate that woman so much, Jane thought, as she quickly went through the process of making the bed to join the teasing blonde in the bath. She makes me crazy.

"But I love it," Jane mumbled in a whisper, bringing a large grin to her face.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

In an unknown location across town, Lea lounged on her couch, casually drying her characteristic blonde locks after washing out the temporary hair dye used during her undercover assignments with Bone. She hated going through the unnecessary process of changing the color of her hair just for a couple of hours every other day, but Dean insisted on it, claiming it was safer to have a complete disguise.

"Sorry for the wait," Lea said. "Red dye is so difficult to get out."

Returning her smile, Dean nodded in understanding, playing with a loose strand of wet hair. "You look beautiful, regardless."

"Flatterer," Lea joked playfully, allowing him to keep his intimate contact. "We haven't been alone like this is forever."

"With Cisco taking up our focus, I've hardly had the energy to…have play time. And I know you haven't."

Lea frowned, turning her head away from Dean. "I wish I had more to show for all that work."

"We knew coming in you wouldn't get far with him. He likes women who fit a certain type."

Lea made a small sound of bitter amusement. "Like Jane Rizzoli?"

In exhaustion, Dean sighed, leaning against the sofa with his hand over his eyes. "Don't do this, Lea."

"Do what? Fight for my place on this operation?" Lea argued, her voice rising to an annoying pitch in response to her inner turmoil. "I don't like to lose, Dean. Letting this…inexperienced detective in to our op just because she fits the bill doesn't make much sense. I'm already in deep. Let me finish this out, my way."

"The only thing you've managed to accomplish in the last four months of being active is getting a couple of short-term bugs installed in a few spots around his house. We need to shift gears and find another way in. Something long term oriented." Dean sighed for a second time, removing his hand from his face. "Don't let your pride get in the way of the ultimate goal of getting Cisco off the street. You _do _want Cisco gone, don't you?"

Lea frowned, eyes suddenly turning dark. "I want to prove myself."

"And you can," Dean encouraged, placing his hand over Lea's, "just not with this operation. When you head back to Washington for reassignment, I'll personally assure that you get on a good assignment."

"I'd rather you let me stay, with you."

"It'd be better if you didn't," Dean whispered, looking away sadly. "Our relationship is already…inappropriate. We're risking our careers just-"

"By sleeping together?" Lea interrupted before releasing a laugh from her throat. "I highly doubt the higher ups are worrying themselves over fraternization between agents. You just want to spend alone time with that detective."

Dean wished he could disagree with the pretty woman sitting with him but knew there was no use lying. Lea was nothing short but a human lie detector, able to sieve out the lie from the truth like no one else he'd ever met. That was one of the reasons why she had been promoted so quickly from Quantico. It was just too dangerous to have an asset like her sitting around, waiting to be used by other potentially foreign organizations.

The idea of spending some alone time with Jane as they worked undercover had its appeal. He'd hardly admit it, but their one time affair when Jane had been in town for a conference after the Hoyt situation had meant a lot to him, obviously more to him than her. Even back then, she had seemed a little preoccupied for some reason, but Dean had just thought her mind was still coming to terms with nearly being killed by one of Holt's apprentices. Obviously, in hindsight, he had to wonder if Jane had begun realizing her feelings for the blonde, well-dressed medical examiner.

How could this happen? Lesbians were like, you know, female rejects. Unkempt, wore flannel and Timberland boots, scary demeanor, not mention, gruff were the lesbians he had acquainted himself with over the years. Jane Rizzoli certainly didn't fit any of those labels. She was hot, sexy, and a lot of fun once you got her trust. She was everything a man could hope for in a woman and, with the drop of a hat, she had defected from men to the female only camp with another beautiful woman. After her return and resulting confession, all he had been able to think about was why and how.

Why would a beautiful woman like Jane decide to, excuse my language, fuck Maura?

How could a straight woman just decide to start having sex with a woman?

Nothing seemed to make sense even after establishing some sort of answers to the questions running rampant in his tired mind. It just seemed so sudden and unplanned. Was it his business to analyze the detective's personal affairs and lifestyle choices? No, but it didn't change his obsessive interest. No longer was Jane the one that got away, she was the one that got away to Maura Isles, a woman he had been interested in, as well. Is this some kind of weird, ridiculous series of absurd, consequential events?

"If you're going to daydream about her, you can do it at your house," Lea frowned, standing up to head back to her bedroom. "I have to figure out a story to separate from Bone. It'll take a while."

"Call me if you need anything," Dean said disinterestedly. He already seemed to be making a move to leave.

"I'd really like it if you'd spend the morning in my bed," Lea added nonchalantly, picking at her manicured nails.

With a sigh, Dean turned back in midstride, wishing the woman before him was more tall and brunette. "That wouldn't-"

"Be best," Lea interrupted aggressively, completing his sentence.

Dean nodded before turning back to the rejected blonde. "Hey, good work out there with Bone, Lea. Really. Great work. You've helped out a lot with this."

Leaving just as quietly as he came, Lea's eyes narrowed. "Always a bridesmaid, never the bride," she said venomously.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Jane was pissed. After a pleasurable morning, she had been interrupted from their usual intimate post-coital time to rush through the process of getting dressed. She hated being rushed more than she hated being interrupted from routine. And why was she being interrupted?

Unbeknownst to Jane, Maura had made yet another appointment with Dr. Rose concerning something or other. With the constant nagging concerning her driving antics to get to the appointment on time from Maura and her own reluctance of accepting the upcoming pregnancy, Jane could feel her pounding pulse rampaging violently in her temple. Hopefully this won't take too long, she thought, mind already looking to the future conversation she would have to have with the team.

"How are you two today?" Dr. Rose smiled in her usual maternal way before sliding a porcelain plate with several elaborately designed cakes and pastries. "I made sure to go to the bakery for you, Jane. You liked them quite a lot last time we talked."

Out of the corner of her eye, Jane saw the icy look Maura gave the brunette just as she happily leaned to get a small square treat.

Jane coughed uncomfortably. "Thanks, but no thanks. I already had something sweet earlier. You know what they say about too many sweets."

"Sorry about our tardiness, Doctor. We were held up by Jane's inability to tell time."

Jane's mouth dropped, turning angrily toward the blonde. "Not this _again_. How was I supposed to know you had made another appointment? I'm not clairvoyant, Maura."

"If you weren't so focused on getting it out all the time, maybe you would be a tad more observant."

Jane shook her head. "It's getting it in. If I wasn't so focused on getting it in not out."

"Whatever," Maura pouted, turning back to Dr. Rose's amused face. "You wanted to know about insemination dates, right?"

"Insemination?" Jane asked incredulously, as if this was the first time they had discussed this part of the process together. "I thought we were still in the testing stage?"

Dr. Rose grinned. "Everything is pretty much ready to go with you and Frost's contributions. The fertilization process has already been started. We're just waiting on which date is best for you to begin placement."

"It just seems so fast," Jane said weakly.

"Most couples aren't as lucky and prepared as you two are," Dr. Rose stated calmly, tapping lightly at her keyboard. "The speed of which everything is coming together is fairly unusual but certainly not rare. But this is the easy part. The 9 month waiting period can be brutal."

With a beaming smile, Maura grabbed Jane's hand, her excitement more important than their petty bickering. "This is really going to happen isn't it?"

Unable to speak, Jane could do little but smile awkwardly. Their earlier sentiment of sticking it out together seemed to be losing weight with the growing vision of baby, baby, baby getting larger with each second.

For Maura, the vision was a long-time coming; for Jane it spelled doom, gloom, and never-ending anxiety. Now much how much her in-control girlfriend tried to assuage her concern, Jane couldn't control the fear of the unknown that threatened to grapple her at every corner of her mind.

Now I see why people get knocked up_,_ Jane mused darkly. "We're having a baby," is helluva lot less troublesome than, "Let's have a baby." Having meant it was non-negotiable. Let's have meant not yet, still have time to plan; with planning came worry and with worry came anxiety. None of those concepts did she enjoy dealing with on a daily basis.

I'm not ready for this. Why didn't Lady Luck let this take longer, so I could have time to process?

"Aren't you just ecstatic, Jane? We're going to be the best mommies ever."

Standing up abruptly, Jane wobbled slightly on her feet as she held on to the arm chair for much needed support. "Great, just great, honey," she said distractedly. The detective tried to ignore the impulse telling her to projectile vomit all over the nice, little cakes on the coffee-table. "Umm…Dr. Rose, do you know where the nearest water fountain is in this place?"

Dr. Rose frowned in concern. "I have bottled water in my office if you need a drink? It's Perrier, but I can have one of my assistants get another brand if you prefer."

"Jane…is something the matter?" Maura asked worriedly, focused only on her lover's wellbeing. "You look pale. Are you having a vasovagal episode?"

"No, I'm fine." Jane shook her head, hoping Maura wouldn't call her out on the obvious lie. "I just…need some air. Give me a minute."

As Jane stumbled out of the spacious office, she struggled to lower her racing heartbeat. The force of the destructive rhythm left her breathless, tears coming to her eyes with each gasping gulp of air she managed to take against the panic gripping her lungs in an impenetrable vice.

_What's happening to me? I've never felt this…scared before._

I think I'm going to need a little bit longer than a minute, Jane thought_._


	16. Chapter 16

A/N - Sorry to interrupt, but I just wanted to let readers know that if y'all have any questions regarding characterization or whatever, feel free to send me a PM/smoke signal/heart-to-heart before you get to the angry, rude review stage. As a writer, I love talking about my stories. canon, or even cake recipes. I won't bite if treated with the same respect that I'd give to you. Now, enough chastising, and back to the story. :)

* * *

-/-/-Chapter 16-/-/-

Nearly thirty minutes later, Jane and Maura were heading to BPD or attempting to. Boston drivers were in rare form in the mid-afternoons, honking at each other as if their lives depended on it. The two women were mostly idling in bumper-to-bumper, stalled traffic. Even the sleek and sexy interior of the Aston Martin couldn't lift her low mood, an uncommon event given how much the detective got a secret thrill of driving the sports-car. After her slight panic attack, nothing could alleviate her current depression.

The fact that Maura had insisted on driving didn't make her feel any better. If anything, the punishment of watching the same orange Honda Civic crawl up two feet of paved road before stopping, feeling the Aston do same action before stuttering to yet another stop, and watching the front end of an Audi was replacing depression with pent-up frustration threatening to explode. This had been happening for _over twenty minutes_. Patience was not Jane's strong suit, and traffic required nothing but patience.

With a heavy sigh, Jane opened her closed eyes, turning to the blonde humming happily to the soft classical strains of Ludovico Einaudi's "Fly" while completely oblivious to her lover's inner annoyance. "Maura…"

"I know you can't stand waiting, honey, but I am not going to use one of your iffy back ways to get to BPD. Cavanaugh can wait."

"No, it's not about that," Jane whispered, playing out the pleasant tune on the leather seat.

Maura frowned, turning her attention away from the road, hazel eyes full of concern. "Is this about our pregnancy?"

In surprise, Jane raised an eyebrow. "How'd you know?"

"Jane," Maura smiled sympathetically. "We've been together long enough for me to know when you're in a bad mood." She lifted her hand from the wheel and tucked a wayward loose curl behind Jane's ear. "I care about you. Caring for you makes me happy. The people that I care about, I go out of my way to figure out completely, so I can always have a remedy to lift their spirits at any time."

"That's sorta creepy."

Maura shrugged. "We're all a little creepy in our own way. I just happen to be creepy about people I love," she said nonchalantly. Maura switched the song to Antônio Carlos Jobim's "Teresa My Love", allowing the sensual melody of the legendary Portuguese jazz artist to wrap around the two women like a warm blanket on a cold night. "You can get just as creepy when it comes to protecting those you care about."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are." Maura motioned toward the detective's trusty Glock strapped to her belt. "I keep telling you to keep your gun at BPD, but you still manage to bring it home every night. Why? Because you feel the need to protect me despite the extremely low chance you'll need to use it."

"That's a lie. I keep it at the house because Korsak bought me that new gun safe for Christmas because you kept whining to him about the dangers of gun possession in a residential establishment. It cost him five-hundred to buy. I might as well use it for its intended purpose instead of using it to stow away even more of your infamous collection of Choos, Blahniks, and Louboutins."

Maura rolled her eyes. She returned her attention back to the highway upon noticing the increase in speed. "You're just jealous because your big man feet can't fit in them. But stop trying to change the subject. What's bothering you about the pregnancy?"

Releasing a heavy sigh from her lungs, Jane ran her hand through her hair. "I just…think this is moving kinda fast, which is great and all, but…I still feel…I don't know…"

"Apprehensive," Maura finished for her. Shifting to the next gear, she lightly moved her foot onto the acceleration pedal. The Aston growled happily with the increase in speed as the machine sliced through the air with smooth power.

"Yeah…I guess."

Jane shrugged in response, secretly glad the blonde knew her inside and out. With Maura, she didn't have to say much for her to get the hint. Sometimes their propensity to speak nonverbally caused the occasional misunderstanding and even laziness on the detective's part to communicate with Maura properly in situations that called for an actual face-to-face discussion. With her tendency to be more brutish than most women, Jane reveled in the ability to share a look an immediately know what had been left unsaid.

Even as friends, they had always shared the unique ability to finish each other's sentences or speak with something as simple as a look. Unused to the intimacy that could develop between women – you didn't meet a lot of women at the gun range or a crime scene – and her own private nature, Jane had found it odd at first to be so close to another woman, but as their relationship had developed throughout the years, she was finding it to be a godsend for breaking down the thick communication barrier between them that presented itself occasionally.

After indicating her lane change, Maura slowed down to navigate the exit ramp from the turnpike as they made their way through the regular, tourist laden traffic of historic, downtown Boston to BPD.

"Do you want to have a child, Jane?" Maura asked unexpectedly, taking Jane slightly off-guard.

Jane frowned. "Of course I do. Maybe not as much as you do, but I still want this, for us. I just…don't do rapid, all-encompassing change very well. Having a baby falls underneath that designation of rapid, all-encompassing change."

Maura nodded. "Humans have been programmed to not accept sudden changes to their living patterns. Changes mean adaptation. Adaptation, by its very nature, is a very slow process. Having to deal with several adaptations at the same time is unbelievably difficult for the body and mind to process efficiently."

"So…my feelings are normal."

"Completely normal, sweetheart. I wouldn't worry about it. You'll come to terms with it in time."

Jane narrowed her eyes. "And what about you? Still feeling apprehensive about having a child?"

Maura turned slowly into the parking garage behind BPD and flashed their IDs at the young police officer sitting in the booth to let her drive through. He gave the two women a brief smile before returning back to his game of solitaire.

Maura turned toward Jane with a warm smile. "Every day I can't help but wonder if this is the right thing for us. Are we ready for this kind of responsibility? Am I ready to be less focused on all of this luxury I love to switch that focus onto a living, breathing life that'll depend on us fully for everything? Are we ready as a couple to take the strain that will inevitably come? All of those questions are constantly me, looking for an answer I've yet to find."

"And yet you still want to keep doing this?" Jane asked incredulously.

In confusion, Maura tilted her head, moving her eyes to Jane's slumped figure as she drove up the levels of the garage. "To worry is natural, Jane. It's when you don't start to worry when things might be tucked up. As long as we're together, we'll find the answers to those questions in time. "

As usual, her adorable yet slightly clueless girlfriend had managed to put a wonderful piece of wisdom with an odd, quirky expression that was completely wrong. Jane smiled for the first time since their morning rendezvous after breakfast in bed, feeling the anxiety subside slightly just as Maura parked in her usual spot. Unlike yesterday, the black government cars weren't there, allowing the detective to breathe a much needed sigh of relief.

"That's not right, Maura."

Maura frowned. "Just because I don't park like Jimmy Jetson coming into a pit stop doesn't mean I'm doing it wrong."

"Who the hell is Jimmy Jetson? Are they doing a reboot of _The Jetsons_?" Jane asked incredulously.

"You know, that driver in the blue and white car that wins a lot? The one with the cute accent? And what's _The Jetsons_?"

Jane went slack-jawed in amazement. Is she serious? There are so many things wrong with that sentence; I don't even know where to begin without potentially hurting her feelings.

Maura watched with a tilt of the head, as Jane unbuckled her seat belt. "What? What did I say?"

"It's not Jimmy Jetson, honey. It's _Jimmy Johnson_. And _The Jetsons_ was an old animated show about a family living in the future. It had flying cars and homes in the sky and all that stuff," Jane said. She checked her waist belt to make sure everything was where it should be. "Frankie has a DVD set of all of the episodes. He loved that show as a kid, watched it all the time. Every day, back to back, I had to endure the endless theme songs of _Power Rangers_, _Guardian Chogokin_, and _The Jetsons_. I'm sure he'll let you borrow it."

Maura clapped her hands in excitement. "We can watch it together! It'll be a drive-in movie except without the car…or the driving. It'll be like a sit-in movie date night."

"I've always wanted to do a sit-in," Jane added sarcastically, opening the car door. "I should be done around…four or five. Depends on how much stuff Cavanaugh wants me to finish up as punishment for taking his squad away. Is that alright?"

Maura nodded. "Of course. I'll be working from home today, but I should be done way before that to come and pick you up."

"Thanks," Jane smiled. "And thanks for…talking things out with me. I appreciate it."

"I'm pretty much your wife, honey. That's what spouses do for each other. Help each other and get tons of love in return."

"Well, that I can give."

With a grin, Jane leaned in to give her girlfriend a goodbye kiss. Both women, not wanting a repeat of their earlier actions in the parking garage – they already did that once and got caught by Frost –, made sure the kiss stayed relatively tame. As Jane started to get out the car after their reluctant separation, Maura's small sound of shock made the brunette turn around in response.

"What's up?"

With a small, brightly colored, lunch bag in her hand, Maura smiled. "You nearly forgot your lunch."

Jane shook her head quickly. "I don't think I need-"

"I packed all of your favorites: a fluffernutter with organic pita chips and some of that extra chocolate-strawberry ganache from the fudge squares we made last weekend. I even added a bag of bacon chocolate, just in case."

Hearing the feast of favorites, Jane snatched the bag from Maura's hand. "Thanks, baby. You know how much I love me some bacon chocolate. Almost as much as I love you."

"Umm…okay? Thanks, I guess."

Jane rolled her eyes in amusement. "I'm kidding. You know I love you ten times as much as bacon chocolate." She checked her watch and frowned at the time. "I gotta go or Cavanaugh is going to rip my ass into small shreds."

"Well, it won't take long. Your ass is kind of nonexistent," Maura joked with a slight wink.

"Oh ha ha," Jane replied sarcastically. "Not everyone was gifted by the genetic lottery of having a shapely ass and bountiful breasts. I'll see you later. Love you."

"Love you more." With a wave, Maura waited on the door to close before starting up the engine and pulling out of the spot to head back to the house. She turned the music back up and started to sing along blissfully to Late Night Alumni's "The World Spins 'Round", glad that Jane was starting to open up with her about her feelings concerning the baby.

She has to start somewhere, Maura mused. As silly as it might sound to outsiders looking in, the love she felt for the flawed detective transcended all of the complaints that would have resulted in the termination of their relationship years ago. Jane might be difficult to love, but she had no desire to give up on them regardless of how much the woman struggled with her small demands for more communication.

_I love her too much to just up and quit on her._

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

After struggling through some final reports of several closed cases under her purview, Jane had decided to take a much needed lunch break – more like pre-dinner snack given the late hour. All of the familiar faces that she was used to seeing around – Cavanaugh, Riley, Frost, and Korsak – were conspicuously absent, leaving Jane with nothing but work and her own thoughts to keep her occupied. In an effort to combat her forced loneliness, she had decided to go downstairs to the café with her lunch, hoping subconsciously that her mother was free.

God, I must be desperate to actually _want _to see my mother, Jane thought, cringing slightly.

But her hopes were dashed. Angela was so busy rapidly taking mid-afternoon orders and entertaining the customers with her endless, mostly fictional exploits of her life experiences to talk. Everyone knew the woman was lying but no one called her on it given how much everyone enjoyed them. Thankfully, most of the customers were taking their food to go, leaving Jane with her favorite table near the window overlooking the entryway of BPD.

As soon as Jane managed to sneak the rainbow pinstriped lunch bag onto the table after carefully looking around for any potential witnesses, a loud sound of shock came from near her side, bringing a dramatic frown of misery to her face.

"Jane!" Angela exclaimed, moving in to kiss her daughter on the cheek which Jane shut down with a stony glare. "What's with the look? I haven't seen you in forever. You are avoiding me."

"Let's cut down on the dramatics, Shakespeare," Jane said with a barely disguised eye-roll. "The only reason I've been 'avoiding you' is because work has been a little crazy lately and you refuse to come over anymore except for Sunday dinners. If anyone's been avoiding, it's you."

Angela blushed in embarrassment. "So I'm only good to be your personal chef. God forbid, _you_ pick up the phone every once and awhile and say, 'Hey, Ma', just wanted to let you know that the Maura and I are coming over to your new apartment to cook _you_ dinner for once.'"

"So you want us to cook dinner? Fine, what do you want? I'm not the best at anything that's not microwaveable or things that don't taste good charred."

"You know what, never mind. As usual, my daughter has completely missed the point," Angela sighed, slinging the white cleaning towel over her shoulder. "How's everything going upstairs? It's been pretty silent today."

With a bemused smile, Jane flung her head in the general direction of the chaos beginning to develop near the cash register as Stanley, Angela's boss and the bane of BPD's existence, ran from customer to customer, trying desperately to do her mother's job but failing miserably. Serves him right for being such an indomitable ass all of the time, Jane mused.

"I think things are about to get a lot louder if you don't help Stanila. He looks like he's about to crack and soon."

"Angela! Does it look like you have time to chat with Rizzoli #1?" Stanley exclaimed from across the café, right on cue.

Angela turned back to her boss with a polite grin. "Just a minute, Stanley."

"What the…" Stanley began before a glare from the detective silenced his familiar protests. "Just make it quick. I can't take orders and cook at the same time."

"Ma, I'm fine," Jane said. She really wished her mother would, for once, take the hint and leave well enough alone. "You can save the snooping face for another time."

"Then where's Maura? You two are practically inseparable. And she has been taking a lot of personal days lately… Are you two adopting a new puppy?"

In shock, Jane nearly ripped open the biodegradable plastic bag with her fluffernutter sandwich inside. As usual, her mother had managed to leave her speechless at the idiocy of her random statements. Ever since she was in diapers, her mother had been nosy about her private affairs but falling in love with the chief medical examiner – that she considered an extended daughter, by the way – had just increased her curious tendencies.

Nothing could remain a secret for long in the Rizzoli family…including having a child. Jane and Maura had gone out of their way to keep the secret for as long as possible but with her Ma's masterful tactics of interrogation and Maura's problematic bluffing skills, the cat would be let out of the bag eventually.

The idea of telling their parents about the upcoming pregnancy wasn't the hardest thing she had to wrap her mind around. She just wanted to come to terms with it first before telling everyone, making it into a bigger deal. Taking things slow was her first priority, and including her Ma in the process would be anything but slow.

"Ma, don't you have customers?" Jane said dismissively. "Focus more on the angry mob beginning to form and less on Maura and I. Think you can do that?"

Angela narrowed her eyes. "Fine, be that way. But if you get a new puppy, I want to be one that picks out the name."

"Why? It's not your puppy."

"Because this will probably be my last opportunity to name a something in the Rizzoli tradition."

Jane frowned. "What tradition? I've heard nothing about that, and I've heard pretty much heard every tradition in the Rizzoli family during those damn family reunions."

"The tradition of naming the first-born grandchild for each of a mother's children."

"Then how'd I get the name, Jane Clementine Rizzoli?" Jane mumbled, curiously, in between bites of her sandwich and sips of Maura's thermostat of iced tea. "The luck of the draw? Last time I checked, there are no Jane's in our never-ending lineage."

Angela shrugged half-heartedly. "You were a…special case. I thought I'd be a rebel and not follow tradition. And…well, after your little decision to pee all over the priest who baptized you, I knew my mother had been right about following tradition. From there on out, I let her pick Frankie and Tommy's names."

"So…you want _me_ to follow a stupid tradition that _you_ didn't follow." Jane rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. "Thanks for the great advice, Ma'. I'll be sure to write it down in my notebook for future reference."

Ignoring her daughter's smart remark, Angela continued, "God knows Frankie won't get married until you do, and since you and Maura are dragging your feet when it comes to planning a loving display of eternal life commitment to one another-"

"Angela!" Stanley screamed from the front counter. "It's been like ten minutes! You said _a_ minute, usually referring to one, singular minute. Are we having miscommunication problems 'cause I'm about to lose business which means I'm losing money and I'll have to fire you in front of Rizzoli #1. Get over here, _now_."

Angela sighed, giving her daughter a maternal smile. "Take care of yourself, Jane. All of that recklessness you inherited from your father is going to kill you one day."

"Hardly," Jane dismissed with a returning smile as her mother walked off, leaving the detective just as alone as before. Well, this sucks royally. Being stuck with her thoughts was nothing short but torture.

As she opened the bag of pita chips, she grabbed her cell phone and quickly went through her list of contacts for the one name she knew by heart. The phone rang for a couple of rings before the woman on the other end picked up.

"Jo, stop it. You can't keep stealing Bass's toys. He doesn't like it." Maura laughed at the dog as Jo Friday's barks echoed slightly from the background. "Hey, honey, getting off work early?"

Jane smiled at her girlfriend's familiar sweet tone. "In a bit. I'll probably be off in another hour. Cavanaugh's been MIA and everyone else is gone also. There's no one here except the sergeant in command and a couple of homicide detectives twiddling their thumbs while they talk about little Jimmy's peewee football league game or whatever."

"Slow day, huh?"

"Pretty much the usual around here lately," Jane replied. "Crime takes a dive when it gets cold out. I'm going to finish up some reports and be gone. There's no point sticking around the ghost town that is BPD with no one here. How'd your day go? I hear Jo being her usual nuisance."

Maura giggled. "That dog is ridiculous. Sometimes I think she and Bass are in cahoots with each other, trying to make my life more difficult," Maura said, faux anger in her voice. "But my day went well. It's actually still going, in all honesty. The BBB have given me a couple of good candidates but getting in touch with them is like pulling femurs."

"Have you tried threatening messages?" Jane asked, chomping on the last remaining pita chips. "I find it works well."

"Because you scare people, Jane. I have, however, lack that ability. People look at me and think, 'Aww, she's so cute and adorable like a Rainbow Bright doll,' and not, 'Oh shit, better run before she pistol whips me.' It's a small distinction, honey, but it really makes a difference."

With a smile, Jane turned to watch her mother and Stanley attempt to be civil with each other to get orders out quicker. "Fine, don't try my way. I just don't want to see you get ignored because you're too nice to everyone all the time. You gotta get in peoples' face sometimes in order to get things done."

"I know, I know," Maura sighed, acknowledging the truth of the detective's words. "But on to other things. If you're at work, why are you calling me? Frost too busy trying to explain his love for _Assassin's Creed_ to Korsak?"

"Actually, I haven't seen them today. I told you no one was around except a couple of detectives and the resident sergeant."

Maura made a small sound of contemplation as she carefully thought through every possible scenario for why Jane's comrades would be missing. She carefully weighed the pros and cons of each one before determining the most likely situation. Jane patiently waited, using the opportunity to finish off the remaining pita chips and to lick the rich ganache from her fingers.

"They're probably on leave getting ready for the operation. With the feds breathing down his back, Cavanaugh has no choice to let the team go help you and Dean out."

Jane nodded. She had thought similarly, but until she saw them, she'd be guessing. Maura's penchant for not making assumptions had slowly rubbed off on her after all of their years of being both friends and lovers. "Yeah, we'll see," she said slowly. The bored detective looked up from the eaten remnants of the lunch to notice Frankie racing toward the elevator, presumably to see her. "Listen, Maura, can I call you back?"

"Sure. Jo's starting to get on Bass's nerves again so I've got to go myself. I'll be there in an hour. Call me if you get off earlier than that," Maura replied, before yet another round of muffled barking rose from the speaker. "Jo, stop teasing Bass. He is prone to anxiety attacks and you're not helping him. Do you know how hard it is to give a tortoise Prozac?"

As Jane suddenly had an image of the blonde in her white doctor's coat, hand feeding the recalcitrant Bass an anti-depressant, she shook her head away from the humorous vision. "Love you."

"Love you more," Maura said lovingly, disconnecting to deal with whatever nonsense the two troublemakers had gotten up to this time.

Throwing away her trash, Jane quickly ran over to the young patrol after giving her busy mother a slight wave. Angela barely had time to register her daughter's leave before the brunette was racing out the door carrying the oddly colored lunch bag.

"Frankie!" Jane exclaimed, waving a hand to get him to recognize her. "Wait up!"

With a frown, Frankie stopped the elevator doors just before the closed, allowing Jane to enter. Noticing the sour look on his face, she stopped the elevator with the emergency stop button in midflight to Homicide's floor. A buzzing sound echoed around the small space for a brief moment before an awkward silence covered the two Rizzolis, each waiting on the other to speak.

"What the hell is your problem?"

Jane narrowed her eyebrows. "Don't talk like that to me. What the hell is your problem? You look like Tommy when we told him the Easter Bunny isn't real."

Frankie angrily grabbed a piece of yellow paper from his front pocket, throwing it at the detective in a huff. "My sergeant put me on administrative leave. I go to his office to ask what for and he just shrugs saying, 'Not my business,' and tells me to leave my squad car keys at the desk."

"So how's this _my _fault?"

"Everything I get in trouble for is _always_ your fault. Ever since I was a kid, you've been dragging me along to take the blame when the shit hits the fan and to bask in your glory when it goes right. No more," Frankie shook his head passionately, "you aren't going to keep doing this to me, Jane. I idolize you, but I'm not a kid anymore."

"Frankie."

"What?" he asked exasperatedly, his eyes bloodshot with fury and worry over his unexplained leave.

"You're right," Jane said. "This is my fault."

"Trust me, I know."

"But I figured you'd want in on a joint-federal operation to catch Cisco. This is the kind of case that can make or break a career for a young cop trying to get into Homicide…but if you really don't want to get involved, I'm sure the FBI will understand-"

Frankie's face dropped as he struggled to interpret the meaning of his older sister's words. She could practically see the cogs in his head trying desperately to turn over. Suddenly, after a brief interlude of silence, he finally got it, grabbing his sister by the shoulders and shaking her slightly in disbelief.

"Are you serious?"

Jane nodded, trying not to smile as he manhandled her. "As serious as a .40 caliber bullet."

"This is crazy… You really got Cisco. I mean, again, after all this time?" Frankie asked, his hands dropping back to his sides weakly. "After everything that happened all of those years ago… This is like your second chance to get that sneaky bastard. What was the name he went by in the trial…something like Fossil or Tibia?"

"Bone," Jane clarified, smiling at the odd names.

"Yeah, that was it. He has the nerve to come back to Boston after barely getting off the first time? What's he doing back?"

With an annoyed roll of her eyes, Jane shot her hand out to slap her brother on the head. "That's what you're going to help me and Dean figure out. Aren't you the least bit happy about getting an opportunity like this, little brother? Contrary to what the academy promotes, these assignments don't just fall out the sky. Can I get some appreciation for my gracious gift?"

"If you're doing this because of some misbegotten family loyalty, Jane, I want out," Frankie frowned, crossing his arms. "Homicide is my dream, but I want to get a spot out of my own merit. Not how much juice I have."

"You think I'm that stupid? I wouldn't have requested you if I thought you couldn't handle it, Frankie. This isn't a gift. This is an opportunity to showcase your readiness and experience to earn a spot in Homicide." Jane narrowed her eyes, offering an obvious challenge to the young cop. "Take it or leave it. But don't bitch and moan about how you'll never get a chance to get into Homicide 'cause your big chance is staring you right in the face."

As Frankie silently weighed the pros and cons, Jane resisted the urge to punch her little brother in the ribs. He had always been more timid than her in their childhood – when she broke a neighbor's window while playing t-ball with her brothers in their old backyard, instead of running immediately upon the first sound of cracking glass, Frankie had stood in the middle of yard, looking guilty as sin because, he claimed, "The Antonellis are gonna wanna know who did it, so I wanted to leave a sorry note," – but she couldn't understand why he was dragging his feet. When she had been in patrol, she would have given her right arm for a chance like this. It made no sense.

Frankie released a heavy sigh. "Is this some kind of a joke that Frost put you up to?"

"Really?" Jane said bewilderedly, her slack-jawed face nearly comical. "I want you to help me with a federal operation involving an international drug smuggler. Where is the joke there? I must've missed it."

"So…you're not lying."

"No, I'm not lying. Thank god we're finally on the same page."

With a late display of enthusiasm, Frankie gave his sister an exuberant, childish grin before punching his fist in the air. Jane watched in amusement, glad to see him so happy for once. Since being turned down for the spot in Homicide to Riley, he had been so downtrodden and depressed that even utterly oblivious Tommy was starting to notice, an achievement for Tommy – maybe having a child was good for him – but a mark of concern for the normally upbeat cop. Maura had attempted to cheer him up by inviting him to one of her weekly home projects but no dice.

"This is my big shot," Frankie mumbled incoherently, in a daze. "I can't believe it… This is really happening…"

Jane chuckled, pushing the emergency button to restart the elevator with another high-pitched buzzing sound. "Korsak and Frost will be helping out also. But this operation is strictly confidential. Need to know, only."

"What about Ma? She's gonna want to know why we aren't working at BPD."

"We'll get that figured out when the time comes. Just focus on the present. Your role in this joint-operation is the main priority for you now."

Frankie narrowed his eyebrows. "Just what is my role?"

"You'll be working undercover with another female officer who I've picked out to handle lead."

"Care to expand on that vague thought there, Jane?"

The door to the elevator starts to open with its characteristic slow, middling pace. Jane found the stupid, old elevator to be more of a hassle than a convenience on any other day but, for once, the machine came in handy, giving her a brief second to figure out how to tell Frankie the news. Lacking her sensitive better half, she decided to wing it. He's a big boy, he can handle it, Jane thought hopefully.

"Detective Riley Cooper will be the lead," Jane said simply. She stepped forward out of the metal box with a tired sigh. "And you'll be her partner."

In shock, Frankie stared at his sister's emotionless face, eyes as wide as saucers. For the second time, Jane had rendered him speechless.

As the doors slowly began to close, Frankie exclaimed, "Are you fucking kidding me?! Now I know this has got to be a joke. Jane…you can't be serious…"

"We'll talk later," Jane smiled, leaning to wave goodbye in the small sliver of the elevator interior to her brother before releasing a heavy sigh.

_Well, that went well._

Jane began to walk back to her desk to finish up for the day, hardly looking forward to even another minute of punishment with paperwork. Isn't this why they had like twenty interns running around with their heads cut off all of the time? Maura had like twice that many interns doing nothing except playing role-playing games – the techies were old-school nerds at heart – and raving about the community musical titled _She-Hulk and the Minotaur_. If cutting her pay meant doing less paperwork in the future, she'd consider hiring more interns a viable option.

"Rizzoli," a familiar gruff voice echoed through the squad-room, "what are you doing here?"

Jane turned toward the voice. "Working, sir?"

Cavanaugh frowned. "I just put in your leave papers. Along with Frost, Korsak, and Riley," he said guardedly. "You're working off the clock. I don't like it when my detectives work off the clock."

"Did you let the commissioner know about…everything?"

"And warrant an unscheduled visit to the proctologist?" Cavanaugh shook his head. "He thinks you are taking some more personal time with the whole Tomlinson case. The rest are on administrative leave."

Jane nodded. "What strings you had to pull to get Frankie free?"

"Let's just say his sergeant owes me after I told his wife that he wasn't having an affair with a 25 year old stripper named Sunflower Kiss-Me-A-Lullaby. And that wasn't even her full show name."

"What's her full show name?" Jane asked, always loving a good tale from her boss.

Cavanaugh smiled as his mind collected the memory. "I can't ever forget it. Sunflower Faithbloom Golden Dreamer Kiss-Me-A-Lullaby… Just hearing her name called out before her dances was exhausting. But, I'll give her some credit, that ginger could twirl around the pole in ways I didn't think was possible."

With a hearty laugh, Jane smiled at the story. Unlike other commanding officers she'd experienced – the one back from her drug unit days was literally _this_ close to being put on the sex offenders registry –, Cavanaugh understood the way she liked to work and respected it. He wasn't afraid to put the law down when needed but those were rare occurrences.

When the team worked well together, they were free to work and play in whatever way they deemed appropriate, however when the team starting fucking up, then all bets were off. The implication was simple. Despite the disconnect some younger detectives could feel with this leadership style, Jane and the others thrived off of it given their experience level and the camaraderie that developed between every detective working Homicide. She respected him, and he respected her. It was a rare feat to earn Jane's respect.

"Jane," Cavanaugh said. He made a weak attempt at a smile. "I want you to be careful. Watch your back."

"You worried, Lieutenant?" Jane joked.

"Just be prepared for anything. Cases like these have a tendency to unravel in ways that have…unforeseen consequences."

Confused at his somewhat vague warning, Jane nodded weakly as he walked back to his dark, empty office.

"Yes, sir," she whispered to no one in particular.


	17. Chapter 17

-/-/-Chapter 17-/-/-

"I don't see why we had to go all over Boston to find these stupid, expensive pills," Jane groaned after helping Maura out of the passenger side of the Aston Martin, looking up at the lit up, warm interior of their home longingly.

After a long day at BPD shuffling papers and getting unnecessary paper cuts, the detective wanted nothing more but to relax on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and watch the Pilgrims get their asses handed to them – sadly, a regular occurrence. Upon seeing her girlfriend waiting in the garage a couple of hours ago with a list of directions, Jane knew that her chances of achieving her happy scenario were slim to none, but a girl can dream…

Ignoring Jane's look, Maura took her extended hand with a smile. "Dr. Rose agreed with me that to ensure maximum success with the pregnancy, I should start getting my body ready for the high demands to be placed on it by taking pre-natal vitamins and supplementing my diet with healthy choices," she explained in her typical doctor-like fashion, her hands cradling the small bag of prescriptions like it was the holy grail.

"And I disagree," Jane replied petulantly, closing the car door behind the blonde as they proceeded up the sidewalk to their small entryway leading to the house. "Am I not a part of this family 'cause you and Dr. Rose making a decision without me seems kinda exclusive."

"Exclusive?"

Jane frowned melodramatically. "Did I stutter?"

"Jane, you are ridiculous," Maura smiled, rolling her eyes in amusement.

"No, I'm just tired of having to endure your ever-changing dietary restrictions. It's like living with a hypochondriac. The baby will be fine without all of this," Jane grabbed the bag of prescriptions from Maura's hands before shaking them vigorously, "medical nonsense. My ma never took this stuff or changed her diet for any of us and we turned out fine."

Maura narrowed her eyes. "Hmm…I'd beg to differ. Your hair has a tendency to dry easily and you're always spraining your ankle which suggests brittle bone structure. It might be contributed to your height or those ill-fitting boots-"

"No, no, no! You can't use your facts to win this," Jane interrupted with a shake of her head. "I never win anything with you."

Maura casually took out her keys to the front door. On the keychain, all of the various charms and mementos covered any available space, but she had made a special spot for the gift received from Suki's parents. The ornate pouch fluttered in the cold breeze, colors burning with vibrant rays of orange as the afternoon sun wrapped the two women in light. The two women were completely oblivious to the beauty of the protective charm as they continued to playfully rib each other over nothing of importance.

"The only thing that's going to change with my diet is gradual increase of certain key minerals and nutritional supplements for the baby's growth. You'll still be able to eat your favorites – just not as often. But if you're so worried, we can always do it together."

Jane went slack-jawed in apprehension. "Really? That's your idea of compromise?"

"This is the best thing for the baby, honey. Don't you want what's best?" Maura asked sweetly.

Knowing the argument was lost, Jane started to shrug before the sound of a branch snapping in the rose bush in the shadows brought her to a sudden alert. In a flash, she moved to provide a barrier between the potential threat and Maura while her hand instinctually went for her trusty gun at her hip, fingers tingling for the signal to disengage the safety and protect her home and family. The detective hoped the intruder would back off once he/she saw her badge and gun glinting ominously in the diminishing light, but, in the back of her mind, Jane acknowledged the threat could be something far more sinister.

The Cisco Kid had been in Boston for about three or four months, according to the feds timeline. From experience, she knew they had a tendency to fudge details slightly had to suit their own selfish interests, disregarding anyone else in the process.

Given Cisco's status as an international drug producer, it wasn't that crazy to assume that he had connections in law enforcement to stay underneath the radar. And if he had that, it wasn't that big of a stretch to assume that he had already figured out about their joint-operation and BPD's involvement.

Jane's experiences working undercover had taught her just how risky it was to have a hand in bust operations as big as this. Despite popular belief, everyone was putting their lives and their families on the line to get Bone for a second time. Knowing all of this, she couldn't believe that she had decided to go forward with this even on an administrative position. If something went wrong…Maura would murder her slowly and painfully while the baby watched.

_I'll just make sure nothing happens._

"Jane…" Maura whispered, shakily, unsure of what had the brunette on alert. "Should I go in the house?"

"No, stay behind me," Jane replied calmly, moving forward to the sound, her eyes focused on the slightest movement. "Whoever's out there, I'm giving you 'til I count to five to present yourself. Decide to ignore my warning and I won't hesitate to come in after you."

The bush made another sound of cracking stems and leaves.

Jane crept forward. "One."

A late blooming rose fell to the brick flooring as the sound of crunching leaves increased ever so slightly.

Jane crept forward another step, her body tense in expectation of the adrenaline rush that came with the number five. "Two."

The bush shook and shivered as three dark figures slithered in the all-encompassing shadows.

_Damn it, there's three sonovabitches…I can't take all three of them down. I'm a good shot but not Annie Oakley._

"Three," Jane said icily. She decided to switch tactics on the intruders. "You really don't want me to get to five." Her hand took the gun out of its holster as she made a show of readying the gun, making sure the glint of the blackened plastic could be seen through the bush. "I've been looking for a live target to sharpen my shot with."

"Jane!" Maura exclaimed from the doorstep. "This is why I don't want a gun in the house. You get all hyped on adrenaline and there is no telling what you'll do."

Jane frowned at her distracting girlfriend. "Honey, please! I'm trying to protect you and you're crying about how you don't want a gun in the house," she retorted in an angry whisper. "How is that even remotely relevant?"

Forgetting that the blonde was just as headstrong as she was, Jane heard the slap against her head before the buzz of pain had time to set in. The detective frowned in complaint to Maura's physical abuse, but the surprise of seeing her standing next to her with a pleasant smile prevented her from throwing out a witty retort.

"What the…Maura, I told you to wait _behind _me," Jane pouted, watching her brave, stubborn girlfriend walk purposefully up to the bush. "Honey, wait. There could be dangerous men in there-"

With the same sweet smile, Maura kneeled down at the rose bush, waving at the intruders as if they were old high-school buddies. "If there were dangerous men in there, Jane, they would have killed us by now with all of your needless gallantry and theatrics. The only danger that you have to worry about is what I'm going to do to _Sergeant Korsak_ when he gets out of my rosebush." She took the fallen orange bulb of the rose that had been dislodged with all of the earlier shaking. "Korsak, come out here right now. And tell Frost and Riley to join you. I swear to god… Elias is going to murder me once he sees what you three did to my flowers. It's so unbelievably difficult to get vermillion grandiflora to bloom properly."

"Why don't you go inside and call him then? Knowing him, he'll gladly pick up for his favorite gal pal."

Maura nodded exuberantly, heading into the house. The cellphone had to have rung twice before the brunette heard the blonde begin a conversation with the man who had taken up the unnecessary position of gardener for Isles-Rizzoli home.

Elias was a constant source of annoyance for various reasons but Jane's attention was on the three detectives coming casually out the bush. Their sullen expressions – in particular, Korsak's – seemed genuine. The threat avoided, tension released, soon followed by the bewildered confusion of seeing her friends hiding out in her girlfriend's rosebush.

"Please tell me this is something you do on a daily basis." Jane shook her head. "If you want to see hot, lesbian sex, all you have to do is ask for a copy of our greatest hits. Stalking isn't necessary."

Frost perked up in excitement. "Really? You guys use cameras? Damn, lesbians go all out-"

"Frost," Jane interrupted. "I was kidding. There is no sex tape…at least, not for public distribution."

"Aww man, way to get my hopes up."

Jane rolled her eyes. "Save the pain for a woman who cares. Is someone, besides Frost, going to tell me why you all are reenacting a scene from 'To Catch a Predator'," she growled.

"We got the boot this morning by Cavanaugh," Korsak began. "Didn't tell us much of anything except 'talk to Rizzoli' and get the hell out. We spent a couple of hours just milling about trying to figure things out – mostly getting nowhere – before finally deciding to take the his advice and find you."

"Which was next to impossible, by the way. I tried calling you but no answer," Frost replied, interjecting into the conversation. His arms were crossed in frustration. "So we chose the next best option."

Riley took a step forward, asserting herself in the conversation. "Meaning, they had a bro-vote, and I was excluded from voicing my opinion because I lack a penis. I had to spend ten minutes sitting in a stupid bush, listening to their immature puns about bushes, and waiting for you to show up." She turned toward the guys with a smug grin. "Congratulations, guys. We should have just waited on the doorstep like I suggested."

Frost frowned at the cocky, female detective. "Maybe it could have worked if _you_ didn't decide to step on my toe with those giant, horse hooves."

"I do not have giant, horse hooves! I'm only 5' 7''," Riley argued, her brown eyes wild with annoyance. "And what does that have to do with anything?"

"Stepping on my toe made me move. Jane wouldn't have noticed us if I hadn't had my foot stepped on by the aforementioned horse hooves." Frost made a knocking sound with his mouth, exaggerating his facial expression. "Mail call for Detective Riley Cooper. This is officially your fault, so congratulations backatcha."

"What?! You're such a child, Frost."

Frost narrowed his eyes. "Takes one to know one."

In annoyance, Jane rolled her eyes at the two bickering detectives. "Ladies, can we focus on the important things like why you're here in the first place," she said. An unexpected cold breeze cut through her suit jacket, forcing her to shudder. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph…you know what, let's move this inside. It's warmer than hiding in a bush outside in the cold."

The four of them made their way into Maura and Jane's house. Riley, last in the group, closed the door behind her and stood in amazement at the warm, loving atmosphere that permeated the home. She had no idea that a detective could live like this. Her time with the Drug Unit had taught her that nothing was permanent; everything could be replaced at a moment's notice. Deep undercover work could do that to you.

Since her promotion to Homicide, the young detective had had to come to terms with being in a stable environment with connections that weren't built on lies. It was hard for her to return back to the normalcy of working cases at a desk when she could barely remember the last time she had had to. Upon graduating from the academy, Riley had been put on the fast-track similar to Jane's legendary rise through the ranks. The first couple of months spent working a beat and then off to the Drug Unit after passing her detective's exam with a perfect score…she had never had the time to learn what a normal detective's life consisted of.

I wish I could go back and slow my life down, Riley thought sadly, her eyes taking in the beautiful, quaint townhouse of which Jane and Maura called home.

The design looked to be mostly Maura's concept of comfort but throughout the house, the young woman could see swatches of Jane's touch. Portraits of the detective with her Italian family members, Boston pennants from various hometown favorites, and an occasional trophy or two were placed tastefully on the living room and hallway walls, complimenting the eclectic selections from Maura's personal art collection.

Oddly, the first thing Riley realized upon closer inspection was how well the two women seemed to balance each other out. In most relationships – at least, the few she had been privy to – one half would overwhelm or submit to the other, but Jane seemed to fit perfectly with Maura.

It's almost like they're – dare I say it? – soul-mates.

Shaking her head of those thoughts, Riley turned toward the medium sized photograph of Jane and Maura in a tropical environment underneath the stars. Both women seemed slightly tipsy but mostly exuberantly happy to be together. Placed next to the small framed medal given to Jane for her work in the Heartbreaker case from years past, the young woman smiled at the picture of the two women who smiled blissfully back at her. They were the picture of what a marriage was supposed to be, remembering the two rings she had seen on their left hands in the dim light outside.

She has it all, Riley thought jealously, wishing she could say the same.

"Hey, Riley," Jane exclaimed from the living room, bringing the young woman's attention back to reality. "I know it's so exciting to figure out whether Maura's used peacock purple or moody magenta for the foyer, but you're included in this talk also. Feel free to join us. At any time."

Riley nodded, smiling bashfully at the adorable blonde coming from the hallway. "Yeah, sorry, I'll be right over." She turned to address Maura, appraising the new, casual wardrobe she was now wearing. "I love your house. It's very fashionable but livable."

"You think so?" Maura smiled. "Ever since Jane moved in, she keeps insisting on changing things in increments, so I don't notice, but I notice. We settled on a compromise though. I keep the downstairs fashionable, while she can do whatever clutter and horde sports memorabilia in the game room or the shed out back."

"I didn't know Jane was a clutterer," Riley said. She walked into the living room with Maura. "Her desk always looks so clean."

Maura chuckled with a slight eye-roll. "Because she never sits there unless forced. I swear that woman has a touch of ADHD. I've done some assessments that lead me to believe that would be a safe hypothesis."

Riley laughed as she looked over at the three experienced detectives chatting about Cavanaugh while waiting for Riley to finish her conversation.

In response to her youthful laughter, Maura grinned. "Let me guess, you're Detective Riley Cooper. It's nice to meet you properly. Jane says you're quite talented for being so young."

Riley nodded weakly, embarrassed that Jane, the woman she looked up to, was discussing her at home with Maura, the beautiful medical examiner. When do they talk about me? In between the sheets? During pillow talk? Oh god…I hope not. "You too."

"Hey, Maura, c'mon," Jane called out, watching as the two women chatted amongst each other. "Stop monopolizing Riley's time with your gossip. It's rude. Business first and then you two can chit-chat about the benefits of using MAC over Sephora."

With a playful wink in Riley's direction, Maura made a slight zip motion with her fingers against her mouth. "Sorry, sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt the big, bad, detective talk. Would you like me to leave?"

"Not necessary," Jane said sweetly. "We're going to talk about it later, anyway." With a noxiously sweet smile, the brunette blinked her eyes in an adorable fashion, clearly trying to get something. "Honey, have I told you that I love you today? 'Cause I really do."

Maura frowned knowingly. "Aww, that's sweet. I love you too. Now what do you want?"

"It's your day to cook dinner."

"Oh…I see," Maura said, raising an eyebrow. "So you just want nourishment."

"Food is a necessary factor of survival," Jane smiled smugly, quoting one of the blonde's many fun facts that she had learned over the years. Before the brunette could congratulate her clever wit, the sound of a playful slap rang across the living room, bringing a chuckle from the three detectives watching the intimate interlude between the two women.

"Maura!" Jane said melodramatically, swiveling her head back to the beaming blonde standing next to the sofa. "We have guests. Do you really think guests like to see their hosts being abusive towards each other?"

Maura turned toward their guests. "I don't think they mind, honey. By the way, you three are welcome to stay for dinner. Since Jane is deciding to give me the honor of cooking tonight, you can be sure it will be edible. Frost and Korsak are regulars but," she looked at Riley with a polite, questioning look, "Riley is new to our impromptu dinner parties. Is spaghetti carbonara alright? No allergy issues, I hope?"

"No," Riley replied, surprised at being addressed directly by the beautiful woman. "That's fine. No allergies. Are you sure it's alright? I don't want to intrude…"

"Riley, you're not intruding. It's about time you have dinner at our home. We've had enough detectives and police officers _and_ extended family members in here. Feel free to jump into the bowl. God knows we're welcoming."

Jane sighed heavily. "Jump in the mix, not jump in the bowl."

"Same concept," Maura said. She walked back to the kitchen.

As the sounds and smells of skillful cooking became to echo around the small ground floor of the house, Jane returned her attention to the three detectives sitting across from her in the various comfortable chairs situated in the living room. Korsak entertained himself with the bouncing, small terrier that had come from upstairs to see her old friend while Frost kept glancing at the younger, female detective in annoyance, clearly unhappy to be in the same room with Riley. On the other hand, Riley seemed mostly reserved as her gaze tried to take in each and every detail of the townhouse without being noticed.

"I'm going to cut to the chase," Jane said, wasting little time on small talk. "What I'm about to say is confidential. If that's a problem for any of you, feel free to go back to BPD and tell Cavanaugh you weren't needed."

"Needed for what? What's going on, Jane?" Frost said, leaning forward to give his partner his full attention.

"The feds have…requested BPD's assistance involving a joint-operation investigating the alleged mastermind behind an international drug smuggling and production ring known as Bone aka The Cisco Kid. Dean and his agents have been working the case for several months but have hit a wall."

Korsak frowned in disbelief. "The feds have hit a wall? Is that even possible given their endless resources and penchant for pulling the jurisdiction card from local authorities whenever it suits their needs?"

"Dean's looking for a shortcut and Eric gave him one. Bone has a thing for tall, dark, and handsome women who he courts until he gets bored and trades them in for a new model. Hopefully we can keep him entranced long enough with a couple of undercover officers to get critical intel on his drug empire and take him down." With a heavy sigh, Jane lifted her work boots to zip them off. "Dean is in charge of the overall operation which might sound like it sucks but it leaves us with the ability to work without dealing with the red tape. Unless otherwise mandated, I'm heading the field operations up. Frost, you'll be working the technical aspects with the feds and Korsak will provide in-field leadership for the two UCs I've picked out who'll be handling the actually dirty work of invading Bone's defenses."

In excitement, Frost nodded with a smug smile. "Well, I'm on board. God knows I could do with some action. What do you say, old man? Too much action for your ol' bones?"

"Hardly," Korsak replied. "I'm always up for a challenge. Count me in, Jane."

While the two men agreed to help their friend out, Riley looked between them in comical confusion. "Am I missing something? If Frost is going to be tech boy and Korsak the grizzled, experienced detective, why am I here?"

Jane chuckled, stretching out her rainbow – borrowed from Maura's drawer – sock-covered feet. "My…responsibilities here at the home have forced me off the main lines. You'll be taking my spot. I want you to go undercover and play the tall, dark, and handsome new love interest for Bone."

"Me?" Riley reiterated bewilderedly.

"Riley?" Frost and Korsak exclaimed in unison, faces comical in shock.

In confusion, Jane leaned back subconsciously from the detectives. She couldn't understand their unusual response. Despite the hostility toward the new girl, Riley was just as experienced when it came to working undercover as Jane or Korsak. In anyone could handle this, it was her.

_If they act this way concerning her taking lead, I can't wait to see how they react to Frankie's involvement_.

"If you don't think you can handle it, Riley…"

Riley shook her head vigorously. "No, I can handle this," she said passionately. The younger detective took the three older detectives aback with her strong tone. "My last case with the Drug Unit lasted for a while. I've got experience. But why didn't you take the lead? You certainly fit the requirements."

"I have some personal business I need to attend to involving the wife," Jane smiled, winking slightly at Frost who returned the subtle response. "You and…your partner are the best option for this case."

Frost frowned. "Well, it better not be me. My undercover experience is limited. Starting in Robbery and being known as the BBK will do that to you."

"Why would I embarrass you, me, and the entire department by putting you undercover for an extended period of time?" Jane asked, sarcastically.

"Then who is it?"

With a sly smile, Jane sniffed the air casually, looking over at her girlfriend busily cutting some vegetables while humming – off-tune, as usual – the newest Justin Timberlake song. "Hey, honey. It's smelling delicious."

"Of course it is. _I_ learned all of the Rizzoli family recipes from Angela."

"And good for you. Finally my Ma can get off _my_ back about learning all of the trials and tribulations of cooking a proper Italian family meal."

Frost coughed loudly. "Jane…we don't have all night."

"You're right," Jane sighed. "I asked Frankie to work with you on this. He'll be undercover with you in some capacity. I haven't figured out the specifics."

Awkward, shocked silence saps the noise from the room, leaving the three detectives to stare blankly at the cool and relaxed Jane Rizzoli. She was unaffected by the news, already having plenty of time to process how odd of a decision it was to bring Frankie and Riley together for an operation like the one they had in the works. It might be a big pill to swallow but it was, quite frankly, the only viable option.

Korsak was the first to speak. "So…you want Frankie and Riley to work together undercover…"

Jane shrugged. "Pretty much."

"And you're not kidding?"

"Does it look like I'm kidding, Sergeant?" she asked, her face deadly serious.

Another silent moment came over the group of detectives as the cogs struggled to turn. Jane waited patiently for the understanding to come. With a small sound of disbelief, Frost leaned back in his chair.

"Well…this is a great way to start a dinner. That's spaghetti is _really_ starting to sound pretty tasty right about now."

With a grin, Jane wondered if her partner knew how true those words were.


	18. Chapter 18

-/-/-Chapter 18-/-/-

After the unusualness of trying to have a pleasant dinner with Maura and the gang, everyone's mind preoccupied with the growing weight of the upcoming operation, Jane had escorted the group out, leaving the two women alone with the dog and turtle. A quick shower later and Jane, deciding to finally yield to her mind's inclination toward getting some kind of an operational plan down, sat in Bass's bedroom to work things out. Despite her inner ambivalence toward the shelled animal, it was the quietest room in the house given Jo's fear of entering Bass's personal space.

No distractions, Jane thought, her hands furiously writing and scratching out various signs and symbols on the lined paper, stretching her toes into the authentic, Persian throw-rug thrown haphazardly in the middle of the room. In his regular corner, Bass amused himself trying to bury in the sand pit of his specially designed habitat, completely disinterested in the brunette's presence. Apparently, becoming one with the earth was far more important than hanging with his stepmother which was perfectly fine with Jane.

"That's not right…" Jane mumbled, scratching out something on the paper. "If Riley is a high-class escort, Frankie will have to be in direct contact with her at all times… Can that actually work?" She tapped her head with the pen, fiddling nervously with her hair. "But how…"

In exasperation, the detective leaned from the paper to stretch her tightened muscles out. While her body welcomed the movement, her brain still couldn't figure out how all of the various parts of this operation were going to come together. Honestly, in her typical style, Jane hadn't thought that far ahead. Used to thinking on her feet, the tall brunette realized the importance of having a plan before jumping off the ledge. The safety of the team, her family, and her friends depended on her leadership skills.

_I have to be on point._

"Damn," Jane cursed, throwing her pen at the wall, enjoying the slight thump it made. "How is this going to work? There's gotta be something that will pull this all together and it's right in front of my face."

Bass hissed in complaint to her display of aggression, burrowing deeper in his sand pit to compensate.

Noticing his response, Jane frowned apologetically. "Sorry, Bass. Didn't mean to offend you with the noise."

"He's used to it by now, honey."

A warm smile came upon her face just as Jane glanced back to notice Maura coming in, her loving demeanor infectious. Jo sat patiently at the door for her two caregivers to come back from the forbidden area of Bass's bedroom. The temptation was biting at her heels but Jo ignored the lure of his mother's unique cinnamon scent, knowing the punishment was too high for the potential reward. Bass looked real safe…until his snapping mouth lunged out.

"Yeah, I'm sure he is, but this is his room," Jane said, blushing at how beautiful her girlfriend was. "I'm a guest in his home. Gotta respect his rules."

"And what are his rules?"

"Well…I don't know. He doesn't write them down. I just know how much he values quiet spaces and here I am being loud and throwing stuff. It's rude, don't you think?"

Maura nodded. "Slightly," she said. The blonde walked over to the pen to pick it up off the floor. "But when did you start caring about Bass's feelings? Has heaven officially burn down?"

_And again she gets the expression completely wrong._

Shaking her head, Jane decided to let it go. "You were sweet enough to take Jo in and learn her quirks. I should do the same for the turtle…I mean, tortoise. It's only fair."

Maura raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Well, aren't you being Ms. Sensitive? Working with the feds is doing wonders, I see."

As Maura sat down next to her doting lover, handing the pen over, Jane rolled her eyes. "Don't give the bureau of Agent Smith wannabees undue credit. I'm just taking after you." She nudged Maura in the shoulder with a playful smile. "Better watch out. I heard it works both ways. When you start calling Dr. Pike dumbass and going out to target practice with the guys let me know so I can bask in the glory."

"Every time I think you're turning a new leaf and attempting romance you manage to revert back to your old ways," Maura joked, tucking a piece of wayward loose curl behind Jane's ear. "So what is causing you such angst?"

"Coming up with a plan for this operation is proving to be a bitch. I can't figure it out, and it's murdering my sanity."

Maura tilted her head in confusion. "Talking things out always helps me think things through. With your pragmatism and my idealism, we'll figure it out, no problem."

"When you use big words, it makes it hard for me to concentrate, sweetheart," Jane flirted, giving the amused blonde a slight wink. "Let's just ignore this and go upstairs. Or we could just give Bass a little late night show of Dirty Doctor/Naughty Cadaver…"

Maura shook her head with a chuckle. "You really are a pretty man in drag. Seriously, Jane, focus. How can I help you if your mind is off thinking about sex, sex, sex all the time?"

"I have_ needs_," Jane pouted in an exaggerated voice, her puppy-dog eyes working on all cylinders to evoke pity to her predicament.

Without hesitation, Maura poked Jane in the scar tissue, ignoring the groan of pain the followed.

"What you _need_ to do is stop trying to change the subject. We've passed the honeymoon stage, honey. I know all of your little tricks. "

Reluctantly, Jane told Maura about the issues involving connecting the team into a cohesive unit that could work. In her mind she had a rough idea of how things would fit, but the pressure of realizing the implications of what could go wrong was preventing her from seeing the big picture. The details she could see just weren't jumping from her mind to the paper.

After an hour of talking things out with Maura, Jane finally began to get her thoughts down.

Riley would work as one of the escorts that Bone loved so much, while Frankie would be her assistant/watchdog to protect the escort company's expensive asset. In the field, Korsak would be Jane's eyes and ears, delivering important information from her to the two undercover officers. He would keep the feds informed of any sudden changes in location or risks that required immediate extraction. Maura had suggested Korsak play Riley's driver and, unable to find fault in that idea, wrote it down as a potential option.

Finally, after what felt days of worry, Jane had something to work with besides her gut intuition. It didn't matter that the specifics were still foggy; they could be put in later by the feds if Dean checked off on it. She was the field leader but, at heart, this was still the feds' show. All of the red-tape and jumping through endless hoops came with any governmental project and the FBI was hardly exempt from the bureaucratic status quo.

At least I don't have to deal with all of that politicking nonsense, Jane mused, stretching out her limbs for a second time. She actually felt a little sorry for Dean for having to endure all of that alone.

"Jane?" Maura asked tentatively, her eyes glancing over at the sleeping tortoise under the heat lamp.

"Hmm?"

"What happened with you and this Bone guy?"

Jane frowned, unsure of what Maura was trying to say. "What do you mean?"

"You've never told me the specifics of what happened with that trial where Eric got disbarred from practicing law in Boston. That Bone guy was involved, right?" Maura said innocently, her hands playing with a loose thread on Jane's threadbare The Misfits t-shirt. "So what happened?"

As if a switch had been flipped, Jane tensed, subconsciously separating herself from the curious blonde. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because I'm your girlfriend, hell, practically your wife," Maura spat back. "That's something that two people who love each other share. Ever since you got involved with this operation, you've seemed…off. Like your mind is elsewhere. At first, I thought I'd let it slide but walking out of our appointment today-"

"I just had a little panic attack, alright?"

Maura gasped in shock. "No, it's not alright, Jane. A panic attack is a serious problem directly correlated to significant biological, social, and psychological factors-"

"I'm fine, Maura. Really. And that trial has nothing to do with anything. What happened in the past should stay there. It just…ruins everything," Jane interrupted, passionately.

"The past establishes the framework for the future. You can't just close the book on the past."

Jane narrowed her eyes. This was the last thing she wanted to talk about. Telling Maura about her mistake during the trial all of those years ago that resulted in Eric's departure and Bone's getting off scot free just felt wrong. For her, those memories were a can of worms that she had no desire to reopen any time soon yet keeping something from Maura made her sick with disgust.

_I want to tell her, but I don't want her to think less of me. I ruined so many lives and allowed a man with known drug ties to just escape, inevitably leading to more deaths. All of this blood on my hands… I can barely stand it. What's to say Maura will be able to accept what I still haven't managed to?_

Jane sighed heavily, running her hands through her hair in frustration. "Maybe you should just focus on the pregnancy instead of bringing up the past. It's all you ever focus on these days anyway…," she added under her breath.

Even as her mouth formed the words, Jane knew that she had made a terrible mistake. Maura was just trying to help her out and provide comfort in the way that she knew best. Biting her head off because she cared too damn much wasn't the answer. But she really didn't want to talk about the case with her and using the pregnancy as a distraction was the best way to get Maura off the scent. This was part of her past; it was her mistake to clean up, not Maura's.

But Maura was having none of the detective's diversionary tactics.

"Because having a child means a lot to me, Jane. But, honestly, I don't see why this is relevant given our conversation about the case from ten years ago."

Jane sighed heavily, covering her eyes. Why can't she just leave it alone?

"I'd rather not talk about that."

"Why?" Maura exclaimed furiously, a rare streak of anger flashing into her swirling hazel eyes. "Did something happen?"

"It's not important."

"And obviously you're lying. If it wasn't important, you wouldn't have fought so hard to get a mismatched, MacGyver-like team together to catch him again."

Turning her attention to the small burrow where Bass had slunk off to get away from the noise, Jane wished she could shrink down to turtle size to join him. As much as she was attempting to fight against her girlfriend's indomitable willpower, it was proving to be an impossible battle. Maura wanted to know, so she would know. It was only a matter of time. The medical examiner may not be trained in the art of investigation, but she had abundant knowledge and curiosity on her side, a dangerous combination that held little weaknesses.

Knowing it was worthless to keep resisting, Jane sighed heavily in defeat.

"I screwed up some evidence ten years ago when I was a rookie working in the Drug Unit. It shouldn't have happened. Bone got away because Eric tried to cover for me. He didn't want me to lose my chance to get into homicide because of a stupid mistake." Jane picked up the forgotten pen and began to tap it nervously against her bare ankle, avoiding Maura's soft eyes. "The rest is in the Boston Daily archives. Eric, the overly ambition prosecutor, got disbarred. The press had a field day raking him over the coals for losing an opportunity to take down a known drug smuggling ring and its leader, Bone," the detective explained casually, surprised at how easy the details washed out from the gates that kept them tightly locked up in her mind. "That's it, the full Monty. Left out some details, but that's pretty much all of it."

In silence, Jane watched quietly as Maura processed the secret that had been hidden for far too long. A weight felt as if it had been lifted from her shoulders causing her to wonder why she had made such a fuss to disclose it in the first place. Maura would always have her back and understand her actions just as she would always do the same for her.

"So this is your second chance?"

Gathering up the papers from the floor, Jane nodded distractedly. "I'm older, wiser, and stronger this time. Maybe it's naïve to think so, but I just feel like if I can deal with this part of my past…I'll be able to tackle being a mom with you, together. This is a chapter of my life that needs to be finished. I can't move on until I've dealt with it properly."

Maura looked up at the genuine emotion brimming in Jane's dark irises as she begged for understanding.

"Jane," Maura began slowly, as if still trying to understand her own feelings, "may I ask you something?"

Jane nodded, unsure of why Maura was bothering to ask.

"Would you feel more secure having a child with me if we got married?"

"What!" Jane exclaimed, bewildered by the question.

"We could go down to the courthouse. No one needs to know until after the baby is born and then we can have a big ceremony in Santorini with the family. I have most of my money tied up in charitable endowments, but I'm sure I can afford covering the price of both of our rings. What do you say?"

"Maura…" Jane began quietly, grasping Maura's trembling hands in her own. "I don't need a piece of paper to tell me or anyone else that I love you forever. I know I can be a jackass at times but I still want to spend my life with you."

"But-"

"You know, you asked me the same question when we were in Tahiti. We just finished snorkeling and you just asked if I wanted to marry you right then and there," Jane interrupted with a smile.

Maura returned the loving smile. "And you said no, if I recall."

"Because I didn't want to just get married on a whim. I want to give you that big volcano wedding, Maura. I couldn't imagine giving nothing less for the woman that makes cleaning up the dark underworld of crime and sickness bearable. I could care less if we become wife and wife legally, but if you need us to do that right now for your own sanity, then, by all means, I'll start looking into tuxedo options." Jane tilted her smile into a playful smirk. "Do you want to run away and get married on a whim?"

Embarrassed, Maura turned away, covering her reddened cheeks. "No."

"Then how did you get from me baring my inner most secrets to shotgun weddings at the courthouse?"

"I just thought that maybe getting married would help you to…confide in me more and feel more confident in our ability to be good parents."

Jane frowned. "But-"

"I know, I know," Maura interrupted quickly. "I said that I don't mind that you keep some things from me, but not telling me what happened to you during a trial from over ten years ago is pushing the limits of my trust. Which I absolutely hate saying because it makes me feel like the needy girlfriend who wants to know every little thing about her significant other, but I can't help how I feel-"

"Stop," Jane interrupted abruptly, her brown eyes connecting with the blonde's murky, hazel depths. "Don't feel sorry for something I've been failing to do in our relationship. Ever since we got together, I've been using the same excuse over and over that I'm not emotionally open like you. And you're tired of it aren't you?"

Maura nodded, mesmerized by the familiar intensity in Jane's heated gaze.

"And you have every right to be."

"You're doing a lot better than you used to. That's an achievement." Maura moved to caress the downtrodden detective with a comforting touch. "You're not me, honey, and that's okay. I love that about you. Sometimes your Clint Eastwood motif does get a little…exasperating, at times, but I'm sure you feel the same about me."

Jane laughed. "More like all the time."

"Regardless," Maura frowned playfully, knowing the other woman was just joking. "You don't need to change your personality to make me happy, Jane. I just wish you'd open up a little bit more. Some things you're going to have to keep to yourself and that's acceptable. But if it affects us, including our new child, then I expect to be kept in the loop. Didn't you say that there's ways to tell me without telling me when your brother was taken into custody? Well…just do that when something comes up."

She always knows exactly what to say, Jane thought with a shaky smile. Maura knew her better than she knew herself most of the time. Normally, she hated it because it meant lying was out of the window unless she really tried, which she hated to do. Today, however, Jane was glad her goofy, adorable girlfriend had studied her so astutely.

Much to her surprise, tears of relief to the anxiety that had formed in the last couple of weeks started to fall from Jane's eyes before she could whisk them away. Before turning away in embarrassment, Maura kissed each small, salty drop from the detective's shocked face. In response, Jane moved to embrace the blonde, enjoying the reassuring familiarity of her warmth in her strong arms.

"See," Maura smiled in between the last kisses, "this is what you get when you talk to me, love and affection."

"I should do it more often," Jane replied, breathlessly.

"Positive reinforcement works wonders. I did the same thing with Ian."

Suddenly, Jane leaned back in shock. "Ian Faulkner? Cute Australian guy with the soft eyes?"

"I don't know why you're acting like you don't know him, silly. You met him like years ago when you investigated him _without_ my permission, remember?"

Jane rolled her eyes. "Well, I wouldn't have had to investigate him without your permission if you didn't decide to fall into bed with him without telling me."

"He was a part of my past that I had to deal with, honey," Maura said, paraphrasing Jane's earlier sentiment. "I can assure you though he lacked your…skill and creativity in the bedroom. Did I tell you that I _yawned_ when we slept together?"

"Did he notice?"

Maura shook her head. "Just kept grunting and thrusting."

"Typical man."

"Trust me, I know now. He was just not doing it for me."

Jane guffawed loudly, causing a loud hiss from Bass's burrow in complaint. "Once you've had," she moved her hands around her body in sexually suggestive fashion, "all of this, you can't go back to mediocre. Speaking of Ian…did he ever cry after sex?"

"Ian?" Maura asked in disbelief. "The last time Ian cried was that time we rushed to bring malaria medicine to a village suffering from a catastrophic outbreak in Ethiopia. Sadly, we didn't make it in time. The only road leading in or out was blocked by rocks. Why do you ask?"

Tempted to delve deeper into Maura's past with Ian, Jane decided to let it go, too excited to discuss Dean to divert the conversation down a path that would, ultimately, lead to another bickering match. The past was the past. She wouldn't be exactly pleased either if Maura had started asking intimate questions concerning her time with Eric all of those years ago.

"Because when I slept with Dean the first time – and thankfully, the only time – he started crying immediately after three minutes of sad foreplay and one minute of painful intercourse. Worst sex ever award goes to – drumroll, please – Agent Gabriel Dean."

"Oh my god," Maura whispered, moving her hand over her slack-jawed mouth. "Shut the front door, he did not."

"Yes. He did," Jane replied, standing up from the floor before helping the blonde up. "Even losing my virginity was better than _that_. And that wasn't even the worst part. During the whole time, he was playing Gwen Stefani's 'Cool'." She grabbed Maura by the shoulders lightly to reinforce her point. "Yes, you heard me right. _Gwen Stefani_. I didn't even know men listened to Gwen Stefani. That's like learning Korsak reads _Good Housekeeping_ and _GQ_ at home to relax. It's just so very weird on so many levels."

Maura made a comical gagging face. "Well…music genres do have stereotypical demographic representations that have been proven in multiple studies to be overwhelmingly harmful to the varied social makeup of a society at large. Maybe he's just rebelling against the status quo? Everyone loves the bad boy."

"Dean is _definitely_ not the 'bad boy'," Jane muttered under her breath, taking her hands off of Maura. "Rationalize it all you want, honey. You weren't there. You can't begin to imagine how disturbing it was. Each passing second made me feel like I was hooking up with a barely legal, sun-bleached, blonde girl from Southern California that's crazy tan and surfs a lot stuck in a sad, pale, overly-sensitive FBI agent.

Maura shook her head in pity.

"And speaking of Prince von McBroodstein, guess who had to tell him that you and I have been sleeping together in the same bed…with no clothes?" Jane smiled in exaggerated excitement, clapping her hands before pointing dramatically at herself. "Yours truly."

"Well…that must have been…"

"Awkward, yes. Totally hilarious, that too. You should have seen his face. He looked like Jo when we kick her out of the bedroom." Jane started to make snuffling noises, her face tearing up in dramatic misery as her voice took on a facsimile impression of Dean. "You mean you two are lesbians? What…what does that make me? Lesbian by proxy? Oh my god, I'm a lesbian trapped in a man's body. Does make me a transsexual or a lost soul? Please, tell me it's not true, Jane. Please…"

Maura laughed, slapping the woman playfully. "Okay, girl talk has been officially rescheduled to tonight. I want to hear more about Dean's face. I hope he didn't cry…well, again."

"Fat chance. He's always crying."

"Normally I'd disagree with you, but it has been proven he does cry more than most American men usually deem acceptable given social mores that encourage machismo over sensitivity." Maura giggled adorably, her eyes lighting up into a brilliant shade of green. "You remember when he lost his cell-phone? He was crying in the women's bathroom for like 30 minutes, before Frost had to go in there and tell him that he had taken it by mistake."

As the two women started to walk out, laughing all the while, Jane managed to puff out in between rare girly giggles, "I'll grab the mocha-mint-chip, sprinkles, and whipped cream."

"And spoons. Remember, chocolate sprinkles for me and rainbow for you. I've been dying for some chocolate. And I'll get the comfy blanket," Maura beamed. "You want to watch a movie while we talk?"

Jane frowned suspiciously. "Explain more details about said movie."

"_Moulin Rouge_ with French dialogue," Maura said excitedly. She practically jumped on the balls of her feet like an overeager, hyped up child at Disney World for the first time.

"Only _if_ you keep the subtitles in English and don't sing every song that comes on."

"Can't I at least sing the melody when Christian is professing his love for Santine on the elephant?" Maura pleaded, her eyes swirling with romantic adoration. "It's the best part of the movie. You love that part."

"You're kidding me, right? The only reason I _tolerate_ the movie at all is because you have a thing for annoying, obnoxious musicals with romantic subplots." Jane smiled, enjoying their casual bantering back and forth. "On a positive, at least you suggested _Moulin _this time. I'd rather endure Ewan and the elephant over the pain of watching Olivia Newton-John try to fumble through the mess that is _Xanadu_."

Maura gasped in shock. "How can you say that? Olivia Newton-John is a legend of musicals. _Xanadu_ is such a great movie, Jane. The soundtrack alone is fantastic."

"Really? No one else seems to share that sentiment." Jane shook her head sadly. "Anything is better than the camp fest of _Xanadu_ except maybe _Saturday Night Fever_. That movie just piles on the cheese in front of a big, fat campfire. At least watching John Travolta shimmying around in polyester bellbottoms to The Beegees keeps me thoroughly entertained."

"Now you're just being sacrilegious to the musical genre," Maura pouted. "Please, please, please can't you let me sing that one song?"

Unable to resist the blonde's adorable pouting, Jane sighed heavily. "Fine, but only that one song. I'm serious, honey. If you sing anything else, I'll disconnect the DVD from the TV like last time. I cannot deal with a migraine tonight. Dean and I are going to be troubleshooting with everyone tomorrow to get this operation worked out as quickly as possible."

"Just one song, promise," Maura said unconvincingly. They walked downstairs with Jo in tow after turning off the lights in Bass's room, leaving the turtle in restful silence.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

In another world, isolated from the warmth and love of family and companionship, Oscar Grey sat in the luxurious study of her multimillion dollar high-rise, on the phone with just one of her business associates she had to get in contact with before she could try what promised to be another failed attempt to relax. The miniscule tinny coming from the phone echoed slightly as the beautiful woman half-listened to the earnest man. As much as she wanted to pay attention to the demands of her client, Oscar wanted more to curl up and sleep. It had been far too long since she had actually been able to enjoy a full night's sleep. But no, there was never any rest when one was in charge of an empire she'd much rather watch burn to the ground.

Her decision – more like ultimatum – to take on her father's side business was a decision she regretted with each passing year. It was exhausting to give up just a little bit more of her soul in exchange to keep the constant manipulation and politicking of those trapped in her large web of influence going in order to ensure her control over the rapidly twisting underworld her father had created and forced her to keep alive.

Control over chaos was Oscar's mantra. The statuesque blonde hated the unplanned more than she was beginning to tire of the strain required to maintain that constant control of the world.

Yet one variable always managed to elude her efforts to complete control. That one, singular, pain in her side was a walking advertisement for letting chaos go unchecked and, as much as Oscar would love to eradicate the problem, she was stuck with the nuisance. The best she could do was work around it and plan accordingly for whatever trouble the problem caused. But it was proving difficult to add another full time responsibility to her exhausting double – and at times triple – life.

In frustration, Oscar closed her eyes, leaning back in the comforting leather chair with clenched teeth. "Mr. Yamamoto, please. I know you're concerned about the product shipment but my priority is on quality not quantity-"

"Miss Grey," Yamamoto interrupted politely in perfect Japanese. "It's hard to have quality without the profit coming in from a large quantity of sales. You should know that principle given your experience."

"Questioning my knowledge is a good way to get your product pushed to the end of my priority list, Mr. Yamamoto," Oscar replied, anger seeping from each foreign syllable that formed off from her lips. She had little patience for men like him. They reminded her too often of the children masquerading as men she had to deal with on a daily basis. "If you believe someone can perform at a better level than I then, by all means, take your business elsewhere. I have ten other future clients that don't get as concerned as you do. They'll gladly take your spot without all of the endless bitching and moaning."

On the other end, the older Japanese man chuckled slightly at the brusque tone of the blonde. "I see why they call you the _yukihyou_. Regardless, I am not concerned. The product will move accordingly. It always does."

"The Miami hub collapsed. It's been causing some logistical issues."

Yamamoto coughed slightly. "My opiates are in high-demand on the market, Miss Grey. Smuggling isn't an industry that takes to unexpected changes."

"Nothing has changed, Yamamoto. The Shanghai shipment is being sent to a suitable major hub for packaging. It should be in Los Angeles by the end of the week, if not sooner," Oscar replied in similarly perfect Japanese, tapping out various numbers on her notebook computer. "Everything is moving ahead of schedule."

"Your cut of the deal will be lowered to compensate for this unexpected change in location."

Oscar rolled her eyes as her hands froze above the keyboard. These stupid boys…if only they knew how little money motivated her interests then they wouldn't feel so obliged to take it away as if the little scraps of paper held value. The money meant little; therefore her share of the cut meant little.

No one knew what she used her enormous profit from her lucrative side-business on besides Bone and even he thought it was ridiculous. To most people, giving away millions of dollars anonymously to combat all of the ills of modern society that kept the poor firmly entrenched in the ghettos and favelas of the world was tantamount to suicide. No matter, it was her prerogative. She never had much interest in financing her own mini Versailles of conspicuous consumption like her father. There were much more important worries in the world.

"Of course, Yamamoto," Oscar said contritely. She resumed her typing with a silent yawn. "The funds have already been reallocated via secure channels."

"The trust account on the Isle of Man?"

"Of course, per your request."

Yamamoto made a small sound of acceptance. "I'll contact you for the next shipment at the usual time."

Despite his polite and reasonable tone, the businessman disconnected with little more than a huff sound of slight annoyance upon having to separate himself from his own affairs to contact Oscar. She was hardly surprised at his reaction, this not being the first time she had been hung up on. The men she had to deal with were selfish, greedy, impulsive, and egocentric. Wait wasn't a word commonly used in their massive lexicon.

As she finished typing the business report, Oscar yawned, stretching her long, athletic frame to get the kinks out. The casual button down rose up her toned torso in response, revealing a line of six, perfectly symmetrical, tattooed stars for a brief second. They quickly disappeared back under the loose-fitting cloth. Each star reflected a mistake that would forever burden her soul.

Yawning meant only one thing. It was time to spend another sleepless night alone, forcing her mind to shut down for just one, blessed night. But there was little hope that this night would be different.

With experienced hands, the blonde slid open one of the drawers attached to her oak work-desk. In the same spot as every night, she found the small, silvery packet of sleeping pills. Three pills were left in the fifteen pill pack… Oscar instantly made a mental note to leave a note for her maid to pick up the refill from the pharmacy tomorrow.

As her fingers dislodged a pill, the phone rang quietly for a couple of rings before she picked the receiver up.

"Oscar Grey speaking," she smiled with fake enthusiasm. "Who may I ask is calling?"

"You know perfectly well who's calling, sister."

Of course I do, Oscar thought. Who else would be stupid enough to call in the middle of the night for the purpose of starting an argument?

"I'm outta the loop, sister."

"I know that," Oscar said simply. She popped the pill in her mouth, ignored the gag reflex that always came with it.

The voice on the other end made a slight sound of frustration. "So? What are you going to do about it?"

Slowly, Oscar stood up to close the electric blinds over the New York landscape. The silence was deafening as the blonde took her time in formulating a response while watching the blinds come down. She was obviously not in a rush to placate her sister's whining. Sometimes the blonde thought the woman had been born whining and had never learned to stop. Another thing her worthless mother failed to do.

"Sister? This is serious. I know you think you're some kind of a genius, but even you can't keep him out of trouble without assistance. If I'm gone, you'll be out a direct contact-"

"Shut-up," Oscar growled, leaving little room for complaint. "You aren't my only snake working this case. The only reason I gave you this shot was to keep you out of my hair for a brief minute. And, clearly, even _that _was too much for you to handle."

"This isn't my fault," the voice argued passionately. "Tell your little boyfriend lackey to stop being picky about his likes and dislikes. He should be glad he's getting anything nonetheless trying to get specific with his bimbos-"

Oscar rolled her eyes. "Did you just go deaf? I told you to _shut-up_. Your opinions are nothing more than an annoying buzzing in my ears. They hold neither weight nor substance."

"Yes, sister," the voice said reluctantly. "But…I can handle this."

"You can't even handle your own shit on a daily basis. How in the hell do you think you can handle this?"

"Give me time and I'll figure something out."

With a heavy sigh, Oscar rubbed her temples to ease the tension building in her tired head. As much as she wanted to believe her sister could handle this, there was little hope in her mind that she could. This wasn't the first time she had asked for a reprieve into her inevitable intervention. Eventually, it always ended the same way. Sister, I screwed up again. Can you get me out of this mess yet again?

But maybe…maybe this time her half-sister could get her shit together for once in her short yet meaningless life. Despite her worthless opinion of the woman, Oscar couldn't stop feeling just a twinge of love for the half-sister she had spent years trying to protect from harm in an effort to prevent her from enduring the same pain she had endured in her own life.

Maybe this time she won't need me to save her.

"Fine, sister, do what you want…for now. But if I find out you're screwing around, I'll send you back to that governmental hell-hole myself. The last thing I need is the feds poking around with my business and you also. I don't want to have to spirit you away again. It's incredibly tedious and, not to mention, distracting."

"Really? You're not kidding?"

"My business interests aren't something I play around with."

"Thank you, sister. You won't regret it this time," the voice said happily. "By the way… Have you…spoken to Father recently?"

Oscar frowned, eyes darkening slightly. "No."

"Then you've visited him at the hospice?"

"Of course not."

"Why the hell not?" the female voice asked angrily. "As much as you love to think otherwise, he's still your father regardless of the past mistakes he may or may not have done."

Oscar laughed bitterly, rolling her eyes in amusement. "Easy for you to say."

"You're absolutely intolerable."

"And you're too naïve. My father gambled his livelihood away, leaving _me_ to clean up his mess and take on his…burdens," Oscar said tiredly. Her face was a mask of exhaustion except for a brief flash of passion from her cold, unrevealing eyes. "I don't have much respect for him left. If he wants to play the mandatory twelve-step guilt ramblings then I suggest visiting a priest. Father is going to die, end of story. Thank god, if you ask me. It's about time he atone for his sins."

"Sister…how can you say that about Father?"

Oscar chuckled. "Easy, sister. I just remember that he killed my mother and it just rolls off the tongue."

-***-***- End of Part 1 -***-***-

A/N - For the sake of readability, I separated this story into parts. And before everyone gives a heavy sigh of complaint, it reads helluva better with parts. Writing each and every month of the pregnancy is an unfair sort of torture for any writer. This is the end of part 1 and the next chapter starts part 2. Sorry for the interruption.


	19. Chapter 19

-/-/-Chapter 19-/-/-

Nothing could be more beautiful than Boston covered in several feet of snow during the winter. Everyone bundled up in winter layers, protecting themselves from the cold and wind that could put a damper on even the most hardened Bostonian native. The fluffy snow put everyone in a good mood…at least until the need to get on the congested streets of holiday shoppers came up.

Jane Rizzoli, clad in a full-length, black, cashmere coat lined in vivid, red flannel, took her hands out of her warm pockets as she looked up at the digital clock near the square. The passing cars brought the half-melted slush from the streets washed upon her boots, yet her focus remained on her goal. She still had a couple of minutes before the scheduled meet with Frankie and Riley at their usual location. Besides a couple of shoppers shuffling from one store to the next, the trendy avenue normally flooded with people reminding the detective of a ghost town.

_No one out of place…looks like we weren't followed._

"Damn it," Jane whispered, pushing a piece of wayward hair from her eyes. "Global warming isn't affecting Massachusetts at least. It's cold as fuck out here."

Inside her ear, Frost chuckled, his disembodied voice coming in clear as day from the hidden microphone. "Get a coffee when you get inside. Knowing Korsak's driving skills, he'll be a minute getting them here."

Jane smiled as she made her way down the street. "Don't have to tell me twice." She adjusted her hair over her cold ears, hiding the earpiece from casual view. "Dean, you there?"

"Of course," Dean's disembodied voice said in his characteristic slow, methodical manner. "Something out of place?"

"Nope, just wanna make sure we're on the same page."

Jane stopped at the small bakery near the corner of the street. The exterior was relatively boring but everyone knew that it was the definitive place to get sweets and coffee in Boston. As she looked up at the familiar curlicue script of the sign displaying the name of the business – Independent Sweets: Established 1786 – and smiled at all of the memories she had had here over the years.

Contrary to the sign, the place hadn't been established in 1786. Built by one of the many extended Rizzoli clan members in the 60s, the owner had given Jane her first job as a waitress here when she had been sixteen. The job had been short-lived – supervisors frown upon an employee beating up on the customers – but because of that experience, she knew the place inside and out. Jane had bought Maura's cake here for her birthday several years ago and the bakery had become a favorite of theirs whenever they wanted to get away from work.

Her knowledge of the building and its employees were the main reasons she had selected the bakery as a meet spot for her and the team for the operation. They had been working the Cisco case for nearly three months now with nothing out of the ordinary happening but Jane knew anything could happen.

If the shit hit the fan unexpectedly, she could get Frankie and Riley out of harm's way without much effort. The only real drawback was how popular the small bakery was. There was a perpetual risk for potential civilian casualties, something she hated to admit, but Jane couldn't see any other alternative to meet the undercover agents in a location that wouldn't arouse suspicion.

With a heavy sigh to ready her mind for the role she had to play, Jane opened the door and immediately relaxed as the comforting smell of freshly made cupcakes, cakes, and other pastry goods assaulted her senses. For what felt like the hundredth time, she wondered why she couldn't live inside a bakery like Independent Sweets. Things would be so much easier if I could work on a sugar high all the time, Jane mused.

She knew it was completely unrealistic but that was the appeal. Despite the muffled conversations of Christmas shopping horror stories and obnoxious children who deserved coal, everyone enjoyed the differing energies that comingled in the bakery. Some waited for coffee, others for a Danish to enjoy while staring into the flurries of snow outside but they all shared the same content that Jane felt upon entering Independence. People flocked in droves during the winter because of the feeling of warmth and community that filled each cup of hot chocolate and piece of tiramisu. It was an atmospheric thing.

Kinda like Boston Joe's except not as expensive, Jane thought with a smile.

With a small smile, Jane made her way toward one of the few empty tables near the back. Situated far enough away from the main crowd huddled near the front while still able to keep her eye on the entrance, she nodded at the good fortune of finding such a good spot open. Before she could get too comfortable, a friendly waiter dressed in an elaborate military costume glided over in a non-intrusive manner, his bubbliness impossible to ignore.

"Hey, Jane, long time no see, huh?" the waiter beamed, obviously glad to see the familiar face. "Here for the Detective special or is Maura with you today? How is she anyway? Haven't seen her much lately either."

How is she? Umm…moody, horny, and developing the oddest cravings but mostly just two and half months pregnant. Ever since the insemination, Jane's normally sweet, caring, and loving girlfriend had turned into a sex monster inclined to violent mood swings that would happily eat everything in sight. When the blonde wasn't puking or crying at the slightest provocation, she would call the busy detective for phone sex or to pick up a can of buttercream icing on her way home, a new habit of hers.

Jane didn't mind the oddities that came with the first couple of months of pregnancy. With Dr. Rose's guidance, the experience was bearable, but she would be lying if she wasn't counting the remainder of weeks until the second trimester.

"Maura's fine. She's just been a little under the weather lately," Jane lied, knowing Dean and Frost were listening in just a couple of feet away in the surveillance van. "The flu is pretty strong this year."

The waiter nodded in sympathy. "I got it a couple of weeks ago. It sucked. The boss didn't even give me sick-pay. Seriously, one of these days, some kid getting a law degree is going to sue his ass for labor violations." He took out his order pad and slid the pen from behind his ear to take the brunette's order. "But you've been through it. What can I do for you?"

Unexpectedly, Jane felt a vibration on her belt. She immediately clipped her phone out of its case and looked down at the name flashing on the screen. Damn it…

"I'm actually waiting on some of my friends to come, so I'll wait, if you don't mind."

The waiter nodded. "Sure thing. I'll bring you a cup of coffee while you wait. Two sugars, black, right?"

Jane nodded, moving her palm over her mouth subtly as he left. "I'm going radio silent for a minute."

"Keep your eyes peeled on the door for Frankie and Riley," Dean warned. "Korsak just called in that he's a couple of minutes away."

"Will do," Jane replied underneath her breath, clicking a small button on the hidden receiver in her ear to turn the outgoing signal off.

Sighing, Jane answered the still vibrating phone in her palm. "Maura… I love you, but I told you not to call me when I'm at work. It's distracting, and I really can't afford to be distracted."

"But, honey, I don't feel well again," Maura whined.

Jane frowned. She hated knowing her lover wasn't feeling well. Her mind always went into overdrive to figure out solutions to Maura's pain, preventing her from focusing on the job at hand. "Did you take the medication Dr. Rose prescribed? It only works if you take it regularly."

"Are you suggesting that I'm not following instructions?" Maura growled in an unexpected flash of anger caused by her fluctuating hormones.

Jane sighed, rubbing her temples in an effort to alleviate the headache that had begun to develop. "No, sweetheart, I just know how you get when you get morning sickness. You lose track of time. Taking your medication regularly is the last thing on your mind."

"I feel so fat and ugly, Jeddy. Taking those pills just makes me feel even worse," Maura cried, her mood shifting for a second time. "I hate this. Why even get pregnant if it makes you feel like a piece of feces?"

"You mean you feel like a piece of shit, Maura."

"The proper use of colloquialisms is your thing," Maura joked, her mood rising slightly. "Are you alright, though? I heard you vomiting before you left this morning."

And that was yet another reason why Jane hoped the time would move faster. As Maura endured the trials and tribulations of pregnancy, she had always thought that she would be exempt, mostly in charge of keeping Maura happy and focused on feeling better but just as the blonde dealt with the sickness, horniness, moodiness, and the like, so did Jane in a lesser form. Most of it was unnoticeable except her tendency to feel weirdly squeamish but coffee usually kept the desire to vomit in check. Dr. Rose had assured them that this was perfectly normal given the circumstances but vomiting on the regular wasn't an experience Jane considered normal.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's been getting better," Jane said reassuringly. "That's why you gotta take the medicine, honey. You'll feel better too if you'd stop dragging your heels."

"You don't take the medicine."

"Because I'm not pregnant like you. I can deal with the symptoms."

"So you're saying you're stronger than me?" Maura moaned tearfully.

Jane shook her head. It was time to try a different tactic with proven success. "I'm at Independence Sweets. You want me to bring you something?"

"Ooh, I love Independence's macarons. They do them in different colors depending on the day. Can you pick up some for me, baby?"

"You mean macaroons?"

Maura laughed. "No, silly poo poo. Macarons are sweet. They're two cookies with filling in the middle like an Oreo. Macaroons are like biscuits with an almond taste. Totally different."

"So…what do they look like?" Jane asked, turning her attention to the display of fresh baked goods on display for purchase near the front of the store. Nothing looked particularly similar to an Oreo besides the white and black cookies. Those certainly looked delicious but Jane didn't think those were macarons.

"Umm…I don't know how to describe them adequately. Their like…brightly colored sandwiches?"

"Way to narrow that down for me, honey."

"Sorry…what about… Do you remember when we watched _Marie Antoinette _last summer at the house? The one with Kirsten Dunst?"

"Sadly, yeah."

"Well, you remember all of the pretty pastel pastries that you said nearly made your eyes bleed because they were so cute and girly? Those were macarons."

Jane frowned as she struggled to remember the scene being discussed. "Ohh, yeah, I remember. Those are macarons? They looked like homemade dog treats from Wonka."

On the other end of the line, Jane could hear the slight fluttering of Maura tilting her head in confusion, bringing a smile to her face.

"You mean the World Organization of Family Doctors? That WONCA?"

_Uhh…no. What the hell is that anyway? Even pregnant the woman can't help herself with the factoids._

"No, honey, that's not quite right but good try," Jane said sweetly. She did not wanting to make her girlfriend mood shift again by using her usual sarcasm on the pregnant woman. "I'll explain it to you later."

Unperturbed, Maura continued on with her love for the small, brightly colored, sugar treats. "They're so delicious, Jane. Every time I go to Paris, I get some in a cute, little box and I eat them all up. Munch, munch, munch. Then I have to buy some more."

"Alright," Jane smiled. "I'll get you some in a cute, little box. Will that make you feel better?"

Maura made a happy sound of agreement.

The sound of the door opening brought her attention back to the operation at hand. Looks like it's show-time, Jane thought.

"I gotta go, but I'll see you in a little bit. Love you and remember to take your medication."

"I will, I will. Love you more," Maura said lovingly before hanging up.

Jane shook her head in amusement. As much as Maura might complain about the misery of morning sickness, she knew how elated the blonde was to finally be pregnant with their first child. Each day marked the beginning and end of one phase of their relationship to another. Jane even began to feel excited instead of scared out of her mind, Maura's joy infectious.

"Is this seat taken?"

Immediately on high alert, Jane looked up at the intruders with a raised eyebrow. A cocky, young brunette wearing Ray-Bans and expensive casual attire standing next to a similarly aged man with brown hair and eyes returned her gaze. Their familiar faces gazed back at the detective, both silently waiting for a signal. The young woman seemed much more comfortable in her disguise, yet the bored looking man anxiously searched around the packed café, obviously unhappy about the crowded atmosphere.

"Carmen, David, I thought you two weren't going to show," Jane said exuberantly, calling the undercover cops by their aliases. Her hand began to drift toward the receiver in her ear to turn the device back on. "It's so hard to keep up with you two."

"Wondering when you'd come back online, Detective," Dean said in her ear. "Korsak called in. They're clear. Proceed with the meet. You've got fifteen minutes."

Jane nodded, turning her attention back to the seated couple. She gave a slight nod and both visibly relaxed their tensed shoulders.

"This'll be a short one," Jane whispered. "How you two doing?"

"Swimmingly considering I have to spend every waking moment with Calamity Jane over here," Frankie frowned. "She's reckless."

After taking off her sunglasses, Riley rolled her eyes. "I take calculated risks, Captain Careful. The only way to get Bone to trust us is to show him we that we have nothing to hide. If we keep being soft with him, he's going to put two and two together and stonewall our operation before it can even get started."

While the two bickered, Jane shook her head in annoyance. Looking back, she wondered if she had made the right decision allowing Riley and Frankie, given their history, to work this undercover assignment together.

But it wasn't like she had much choice in the matter. The long-term, high-risk operation would have put her in a position of increased risk for Maura and the baby's safety. With all of the changes occurring to Maura's body, she needed the detective to be home for support. Given these requirements, Riley was the only female detective that fit the bill of Bone's preferences for his girlfriends and Frankie was young enough not to look out of place in the clubbing, jet-setting atmosphere of the elite drug-dealing world springing up in Boston in response to Paddy Doyle's arrest.

Frankie and Riley were the best hope to making this joint-operation with the feds work to everyone's benefit. Before the two settled into their shared apartment as Carmen Jones and David Tellier – aliases created by the feds – she had given them one last talk about the importance of the assignment and to always stick together when possible. They had given her the typical serious looks and nods of understanding but Jane hoped they truly understood what this entailed.

_It's not just the success of this operation on the line with whether you two can put your differences aside. You'll be dead if you don't._

Jane sighed. They'll get it together. I know they will…hopefully.

"You hog the shower and leave your long hair everywhere. It's disgusting, _Carmen_," Frankie argued. "Get a brush and comb that shit out before jumping in the shower. It's like living with a shaggy dog."

"You're one to talk," Riley replied, her eyes blazing. "At least you don't have to wash out the curly ones you leave in the shower."

Frankie went slack-jawed in amazement. "You have some nerve bringing up _my_ pubes in front of my _sister_!"

Okay, this is getting straight up ridiculous, Jane thought. Her eyes narrowed in frustration at watching the two officers acting like children.

But just as Jane began to gather her left hand to slap the two upside their heads, the waiter from earlier came by carrying her steaming cup of coffee.

"One black coffee, two sugars." He set the bright blue and red cup on the table in front of Jane and smiled at the two newcomers. "You must be the two friends. Since everyone's together, would you like to order?"

In embarrassment, Frankie blushed and turned away from Riley. The young brunette followed suit.

"They'll be leaving early, so nothing for them. But I would like to order some macarons for the wife," Jane smiled, turning her attention to the waiter. "Do you still sell them? I can't imagine they'd be that popular…"

"Of course we still have our world-famous macarons! Foodies come from all over the world just to try Independence's Red, White, and Blues. We've just finished up a fresh batch. How many would you like? We sell them by the ounce."

Jane frowned. "Well…do you have an option to put them in a cute, colorful box? My wife is…hormonal. Makes her quite picky."

"So you two have your periods at the same time? I thought that was a lezzie myth?" Frankie chimed in, before getting a kick underneath the table in his shin from Riley.

"Ignore him, he has sudden onset Tourette's," Jane said. She shot venomous eyes at her brother.

The waiter smiled. "We have a special gift option where we put our macarons in a collectable tin. Would that work?"

"Yes, that's perfect. I'll have one of those."

With a quick jot of his pen against the order pad, the waiter glided away, leaving Jane alone with Riley and Frankie who continued to avoid each other's eyes. Jane shook her head while running her hand through her hair.

"Stop pouting and tell me how Bone's been taking to you. We're working blind until we get cameras up and working."

Riley leaned forward. "He hasn't even noticed me and it has been nearly three months since we started. I don't want to appear too eager to get his attention but something's gotta give, Jane. You think he's on to us? Maybe he's got another girl he's interested in."

"Lea told us that she was sure Bone wasn't playing around with anyone else. Apparently he attempts to remain monogamous to whatever escort he decides to court."

"Which could be further reason why he hasn't made contact with me yet."

Jane sighed heavily. "Stay vigilant. Keep showing him you're there, ready and willing. The Cisco Kid isn't going to be stupid enough to risk exposing his weakness to just anyone with a pulse. Patience is important on these operations."

"Riley wants to push the envelope tonight," Frankie said disinterestedly.

"What are you planning?" Jane asked.

"I get aggressive. Go up to his private office and show him why he needs to start making more of an effort on a woman like me. Men have an inclination toward jealousy. Why not use it to our advantage?"

The girl was smart, Jane mused. Bone had been proving to be a tough cookie to crack and she was starting to feel amazed at how quickly Lea had managed to gain his trust while they were still trying to scratch the surface. Lea had gotten more accomplished in six months of working for the feds than two UCs working tandem.

Back in Washington, the blonde agent was still providing the team with auxiliary intel and assistance when needed, but most of her leads were either bogus or completely unhelpful. It was beyond frustrating. For some odd reason, Dean kept insisting they follow Lea's leads based off of some kind of blind trust in his agent, but Jane was already starting to reformulate their strategy using her own extensive knowledge of gaining trust with a target while undercover.

Waiting like a sitting duck was asking for trouble. They had to act quickly and efficiently if they wanted to get Cisco before he left town again like last time.

But Dean wouldn't approve and, given his position as the operation leader, Jane knew he would protest if she approved Riley pulling this move without prior approval. The agent was cautious. Jane, however, was anything but.

"I want you to do what you feel is best," Jane said vaguely, hoping the young detective would understand her subliminal message. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, okay? We want to get Bone but not at the sake of losing lives."

Riley narrowed her eyes briefly before nodding slowly in understanding.

"Yes, Detective, I understand."

"Well, I don't," Frankie muttered. "It sounds like she didn't say much of anything."

"I'll explain it to you later," Riley whispered exasperatedly, turning her attention back to Jane. "Why do we do these meets like this? Can't we just meet at the safe-house?"

"Too risky. Both Lea and Dean claim that Bone gets paranoid with the girls he dates. Checks out everything out about them including places they like to hang out. The last thing I want is to spook him by having you and Frankie come by a private household in a neighborhood on a regular basis. It's easier to do the meets in public areas," Jane explained casually as if talking about the weather. "Korsak should have gotten a list from Dean of the next meet locations and the new phone number to call. Remember to reprogram the new number in your phones just in case things go wrong and you need a quick retrieval."

Both Riley and Frankie nodded.

"And stop bickering back and forth like that. David is your assistant, Carmen. Not your bitch," Jane joked, chuckling slightly at the image of Frankie wearing a dog collar. Knowing her brother, he'd probably enjoy it.

"That's so not funny," Frankie pouted.

"Aww, big boys don't cry." With a wink, Jane grabbed a small jewelry box from her coat pocket, placing it on the table in front of Riley. "Dean gave me a pair of signal transmitters. They'll allow us to keep a visual and audio lookout if Bone makes contact."

Opening the small jewelry box, Jane showed the small diamond studs to Riley. The occasional rays of sunlight reflected against the clear facets, rays of light dancing around the detective's fingers.

Unless Bone was particularly astute, the odds of him managing to find the transmitters in the realistic diamonds were slim to none. Jane had made sure for her own sanity that every liability had been accounted for. The risk of this operation was already high as is. The last thing she wanted was rely on assumptions when her team was putting their lives on the line while she sat in the van thinking about Maura's cravings.

"Will you be following us tonight?" Frankie asked curiously, as his partner appraised the beautiful jewelry.

Jane nodded. "Korsak has already given us the location for Bone's whereabouts. It's another club so make sure you two bring your dancing shoes."

With a heavy sigh, Riley shook her head. "I don't think we have to worry about that. Frankie loves going to all of the hottest clubs every night. Gives him a chance to see a side of Boston he'd normally be excluded from."

"See this is why no one likes you," Frankie replied. He turned toward the young woman as she put the small box in her expensive purse. "I told you that in confidence to build trust and here you are blabbing it to anyone and everyone. Do you not know the meaning of trust?"

"Do you not know the meaning of a toothbrush?"

"You're so immature."

"And you're so inexperienced."

Jane shook her head in defeat. There was no way to get those two to see eye-to-eye without some kind of an intervention. She had hoped they'd be able to band together under pressure, but it looked like the two were still too volatile with memories of the past.

From her experience, some undercover partners weren't buddy-buddy with each other. There was no requirement that UCs had to be lifelong best friends. Jane could even remember times where her old partner in the Drug Unit weren't on the best of terms for months for some inane reason or other. Regardless, she always knew he had her back and hoped Riley and Frankie understood that critical difference.

If they don't, things could go south, in a hurry, Jane thought worriedly.

As Jane watched her brother attempt to bicker with the smarter, wiser detective, the waiter returned with an elaborately designed box. The large red, white, and blue ribbon tied around the box of macarons managed to bring a smile to her face knowing how happy Maura would be to see it. Nothing made the brunette happier than seeing her girlfriend happy…except practicing shooting at the range with Frost.

"Here's your macarons," the waiter smiled, handing the heavy box to Jane. "There's about thirty in there so I think Maura will like it."

Jane smiled. "I think she will too."

-/-/-/-/-/-

In front of the Isles-Rizzoli house, a nondescript, black van rolled up to the sidewalk. The mid-morning sunlight was blocked by the heavy grey clouds meandering across the sky, seemingly in little hurry to release another layer of soft snow upon the Boston streets. At least the traffic hadn't picked up yet with the ever present wave of lost tourists who felt the need to take pictures of anything that looked remotely old and the native Bostonians who drove like they had stopped giving a shit about road laws that no one even attempted to follow anymore.

With a silent motion, the door opened, revealing Jane's tall frame stepping out of the large, darkened interior of the van. Frost was on the computer helping several techies with the expensive equipment used during their regular all-nighters to keep a lookout on Frankie and Riley when they went undercover. Dean sat next to the anonymous suit driving the van while watching Jane discreetly, keeping his attention on his smartphone's touchscreen.

"You've got fifteen minutes," Dean said.

"Don't make me have to come in there and get you," Frost replied wittily. "We just managed to get a deathmatch started with one of the techies' modded CoD .exes. Hopefully we won't get booted off the server."

Jane frowned, turning back with the box of pastries in her left hand. "I'm a padawon to the language of geeks, Frost. Break it down for me. Preferably in English."

"The federal tech guys have a computer game that's been changed to allow us to play it in a different way but we need the server to get online which will cause problems because the system might see us as hackers and disconnect-"

"You know what, just go back to Jedi master language," Jane smiled. "I'm going to take your word for it." She looked over at Dean's typical moody expression. "Maura's probably sleeping. She hasn't been feeling well lately. Shouldn't take me long to drop this on the counter."

Dean nodded and Jane closed the door, already heading up to the steps in a quick jog. It might be complete over-reaction, but she was genuinely concerned for her girlfriend's wellbeing. Being pregnant was a new experience for the both of them.

Maura kept insisting she was fine despite her endless yet harmless nagging for attention, but, in the back of her mind, Jane kept thinking the absolute worst. If something went wrong, it wouldn't just be Maura's life on the line but also their unborn child. As conflicting as it may sound, she wanted to protect the forming life with every fiber of her being at the same time as the fear of screwing up being a mom paralyzed her. Feeling this complicated about her feelings was an oddity to the normally direct, simple detective.

God, this is stupid, Jane thought, fiddling with the keys in the lock. When did I turn into such a damn girl? Figuring it must be a side-effect of Maura's fluctuating hormones as a result of the pregnancy, she opened the door with pastries in hand, shaking her mind free of the complex emotions that threatened to overwhelm her carefully constructed sanity.

"Hey, Maura?" Jane called out to the darkened interior of the home, making her way toward the stairs. "Guess what I got my loving other half."

In reply, a soft groan rose up from their bedroom at the end of the darkened hallway.

"Honey, it can't be that bad…" Jane said sweetly. "What's with the goth look in here? Is The Cure deciding to use our house as a set for their next music video?"

"I've got killer migraines again," Maura groaned just as the brunette quietly made her way into the bedroom. "My face is constantly green, and I feel nauseous every thirty minutes."

"Anything else you want to add to that list?"

Maura stretched in the bed with a yawn. "And I'm unbelievably aroused like 24/7. Do you know how gross it is to want sex while puking your brains out?" She shivered exaggeratedly before attempting a weak smile. "And how has your day been? You back home or just checking in?"

"Latter," Jane replied, stepping over Bass's hefty body at the foot of the bed to sit down next to her ill girlfriend. Ashamed to admit it out loud, Maura really was looking slightly green.

With a comforting caress, Jane set the box of pastries on the floor before grabbing the bottles of prescriptions on the nightstand. "You took your meds?"

Maura shook her head. "I hate taking them, Jane. I told you they make me feel horrible."

"And what's wrong with feeling horrible at the house? It's not like you're at work and need to stay focused on cutting open some gangbanger who was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"I'll have you know that I've been quite busy when I haven't been throwing up bile and feeling exhausted. I've just finished contacting the last applicant to come in for interviews. Hopefully, I won't be dead by then."

Jane laughed. "I highly doubt that, sweetheart." She leaned down to give the blonde a quick peck on her clammy forehead. "Especially when you see what I got you."

"They had the macarons?"

"Of course," Jane said. She took the small box from off the hardwood floor. "So open them up and let me see what all of the fuss is about. They can't be that good."

Eagerly opening the box, revealing the vivid red, white, and blue sugary treats, Maura grinned mischievously. "So says the woman who's never tasted one. Go on, take one. Unless Independence has changed their flavors on me, the reds are strawberry; the blues are blueberry; and the whites are vanilla. Prepared to be charmed."

"I think you mean mystified."

"Whatever," Maura managed to mumble out in between bites of macarons. "The point is that they're delicious. You better get one before I eat them all."

With a playful tap of Maura's head, Jane took one of the vanilla macarons out of the box. It looked normal enough… Two white, round cookies with a buttercream – or was it called ganache? – filling in between, nothing out of the ordinary. But, knowing Maura and her odd tastes, Jane would end up biting into a piece of sweetened plastic.

Reluctantly, she decided to just down the entire thing at once that way she wouldn't have to listen to Maura's complaints if she didn't like it. The confection, surprisingly, melted in her mouth much like the s'mores she used to make for her brothers in the kitchen when her parents had been out of town, leaving her with the eldest sibling responsibilities. Vanilla filled her mouth and brought a smile to her face.

"Do you like?" Maura asked, poking the distracted woman in the ribs.

Jane nodded slowly. "First time I've been able to relax all day."

"Want to talk it out?"

"I don't think I've got enough time."

"Then give me the abridged version. I'd rather take that over nothing at all."

Jane sighed, running her hand through her tangled loose curls. "Riley and Frankie are going undercover tonight. Riley asked me whether it's advisable for her to push the issue with Bone, get in his face a little bit. I gave her clearance."

"And you're worried that she'll get herself or Frankie hurt?"

Jane nodded reluctantly, rubbing her hand subconsciously on the slight swelling of Maura's bare stomach.

"Riley is a smart, experienced detective, Jane. You said yourself that she sees you as her idol. I highly doubt that she'll do anything reckless."

"But what if she does something reckless to try and get my approval?"

Realizing the logic behind her girlfriend's question, Maura stuck out her tongue coquettishly with an adorable tilt of the head. "I didn't think of it like that. But I think Riley is smart enough to make the right decision based off the safety of the team and not her need to climb the BPD social ladder."

"God," Jane sighed heavily, leaning back against the pillows with her eyes closed. "I hope so. Damn it, if I knew being a leader was going to be this exhausting I wouldn't have agreed to take this damn joint-op on."

Silence took the place of conversation as Maura continued to nibble at the remaining macarons while Jane enjoyed her few remaining moments of blissful peace with the woman she loved more than life itself.

"Jane?"

"Yeah?"

"This was really nice of you to get these for me."

"Save the applause for when I'm not as stressed, sweetheart," Jane joked. "No use wasting a Hallmark moment."

Maura chuckled. "You're such a kidder. But…you know what I'm hungry for?"

Hearing the familiar tone in Maura's voice, Jane opened her eyes with furrowed eyebrows. "No, Maura. Not today. I've got Frost and Dean waiting for me outside."

"It'll be a quickie," Maura pouted, playing with the detective's belt.

"No," Jane exclaimed. "Maura…"

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"Still no."

Jane turned away from the pleading lustful hazel eyes that were beginning to shift colors in the few rays of light that had managed to work past the closed blinds. I can't let her win, she thought, focusing her attention on the various framed abstract and oil paintings on the walls.

Courtesy of Constance, the framed pieces were specially picked out of her personal collection after their coming out party as a moving-in gift. Surprisingly, Jane found the art pleasing and enjoyable to look at when she had the time. Maura had been positively ecstatic upon hearing how much she liked the art her mother had picked out and had even suggested going to the Grant Museum of Fine Arts, but Jane had assured her it wasn't nearly that serious.

"Jane…," Maura pleaded. "Zoning out on me isn't very nice."

Turning her attention back to the beautiful woman beginning to unbuckle her belt, Jane smiled. "I can't do this, Maura. I've got," she checked the clock on the nightstand, "ten minutes. Dean will ask all kinds of awkward questions if I show up late."

With a mischievous smirk, Maura took the remaining box of macarons and placed them on the floor. Jane shook her head, knowing that there was no use complaining or attempting to play logic against the blonde. There was no use denying Maura anything, nonetheless a horny Maura with drastic mood changes and cravings for anything with a disturbing amount of sugar. The woman was insatiable.

"Ten minutes is plenty of time."

Jane dropped her jaw comically. "You're kidding me."

"Hardly," Maura said nonchalantly. She moved to straddle the shocked brunette. "Achieving a sexual climax is nothing more than determining the correct rhythm and…touch at the right moment. With my studious knowledge of your body, I think ten minutes will be plenty of time."

"Oh god, kill me now," Jane moaned as Maura began to focus on the task at hand.

"Le petit mort...we'll get there soon enough, honey."

-/-/-/-/-/-

Exactly ten minutes later, Jane ran out of the house in a rush, trying in vain to wipe the freshly fucked look off of her face. She knew from experience that it did little to inspire confidence amongst those she worked with to show up with a blissed out stare and a cat-that-ate-the-canary smile. Frost wouldn't hesitate to tease her with an endless torrent of puns regarding pussycats and phallic objects. The detective enjoyed watching his partner squirm, a rare moment for the reserved brunette.

And god knows Jane didn't want Dean asking questions like, "So…is she better than me? Like on a scale of one to ten, where would you put me and where would you put her?" The last thing she wanted was to make things even more awkward between them by replying, "Uhh…let me put it this way. She's in the hall of fame. You're barely surviving in the minor leagues."

Jane knocked on the black door before sliding it open to reveal Dean and Frost twiddling their thumbs in boredom.

"Sorry," Jane apologized half-heartedly. "Maura broke something and needed me to fix it."

Dean nodded. He, unexpectedly, turned to the window, his face beet-red. Frost, on the other hand, smiled smugly at the confused detective.

"What's his problem?"

Frost pointed at her neck. "Might have something to do with the present you brought back for us." He lowered his voice to a subtle whisper. "A fragile male ego might not be able to take it."

Stepping into the van and taking her seat next to Frost, Jane used the reflective surface of the computer to look at what all of the fuss was. As soon as she took in the problem, she began to blush as well.

Leave it to Maura to leave a hickey just high enough on my neck so anyone who's not Helen Keller could see it, Jane mused.

Before she could begin to figure out some way to cover it up, Frost handed his partner his red scarf from his own neck.

"Thanks," Jane smiled after taking the long piece of wooly fabric.

Frost shrugged. "It's the least I could do. Last thing I want to see is another crying session from Prince Brooding when we've got to spend night-watch with him."

"Hopefully he'll repress the urge for the sake of efficiency tonight," Jane joked in a whisper, not wanting to be overheard and cause undue drama. "Did you get your .exe thingy match working?"

Frost frowned. "We just decided on waiting until the system isn't as busy. Last thing I need is to get banned from online play for eternity because we wanted to hack into the .exes and play with the lightmaps for a level design-"

"Stop. Just stop," Jane interrupted. "You're getting as bad as the wife. Jesus…did Maura put you up to this?"

"No… You know I'm a nerd at heart."

Jane chuckled. "So you have an attractive, hot outer layer and a nerdy, pale nerdier inner layer. That's good to know. When the baby comes out with a fondness for the Lord of the Rings soundtrack, I'll know who to blame."

"Hey, LotR is awesome when it comes to soundtrack," Frost exclaimed, passionately. " "'Uruk-hai' is a fantastic piece of film score. Really sets the mood for the entire film."

Jane shook her head in amusement. "You're one of those guys that cosplays as Spock and sits on the forums talking about how underrated _Cloverfield_ was, aren't you?"

"No…" Frost said unconvincingly. He looked away from his partner's eyes. "I will neither deny nor admit those accusations."

"You already did."

"No, I didn't."

Before Jane could reply back to Frost's weak attempts to lie, Dean turned back to the two with a disapproving look. "Should be a late night shift for us. If Riley makes contact, we're going to have to be on our A-game. I suggest taking in as much sleep as possible now instead of passing out later."

"Guess he didn't like your present," Frost whispered, pointing at Jane's scarf covered neck before turning back to the computer monitor to continue amusing himself with the fed's mobile tech team.

Yeah, I guess he didn't, Jane thought, hoping Dean wouldn't harbor a grudge for her lack of sensitivity, as usual. He was more mature than that. The man was a federal agent with years of experience in handling difficult and complicated situations involving much more harrowing elements than his entanglement in her private affairs. Just because she was in a committed relationship with a woman that gave her everything she could ever want emotionally and physically shouldn't make much of a difference. If Dean was harboring feelings for her, he would understand that he had to let the past lie for her future happiness.

But then Jane remembered that Dean, like most men, probably had a small brain meant for little other than controlling his dick and testosterone levels. In her own life-long experience with men, she knew that little came easy from men except the fine art of ejaculation. They have that mastered. The rest is a work in progress.


	20. Chapter 20

-/-/-Chapter 20-/-/-

On the other side of town near Dorchester, Jane and the rest of the team sat inside the black, covert van. Covered head to toe in electronic equipment, several techies played on their keyboards to keep the team informed of any changes coming in from headquarters. Frost, able to keep up with the nerdy jargon flying back and forth, sat in the middle of the tech babble, enjoying his position as translator for Jane and Dean. Now huddled around the high definition monitor, the two were forced to occupy the same space while Frost worked on prepping the equipment for the night's assignment.

As the unobtrusive fluorescent light descended from the strategically placed lights around the monitors, Jane struggled to keep calm next to the livewire of anxiety that sat next to her. Jesus, can't Dean relax for a minute?

Right on cue, the agent checked his phone for the fiftieth time. "We're too close." He turned toward the silent suit sitting in the driver's seat. "Russell, go around the block again. This time, park on the other side of the road facing the club."

Jane frowned. That was the exact opposite from what they should do. "Dean, we move further away and there's no guarantee the signal from the receivers will be able to reach us for a visual. Those transmitters weren't designed to work from such a large distance."

"Sitting right in front of the club is painting us with a big red target, Jane," Dean replied, his calm voice beginning to rise in anger. "As much as I appreciate your opinion, this is my operation. Your experience with undercover operations, as of late, hasn't been exactly stellar."

"Excuse me?" Jane asked incredulously, amazed that he was even choosing that particular incident up.

Several months ago, Jane had been forced to shoot the head of the Irish mob and Maura's biological father, Paddy Doyle. The whole undercover op had gotten out of control, leaving Jane to clean up the mess of Maura's understandable anger toward her for shooting the one connection she had to a family she had never known. Her trust in Dean had directly affected the outcome of that long, traumatic day. Jane had spent countless hours wondering about the what-ifs. To bring up her past conduct at a time like this…

"Dean, that was then and this is now. Don't use the past to justify your efforts to overtake my position in the operation."

"Your position?" Dean laughed before folding his arms across his chest. "The only reason you have a position is because _you_ decided to change the plan to accommodate your girlfriend's needs to," his voice rose to a whining impression of a woman, "have you at home to fix things like a good little boy."

Jane shook her head, ignoring the subtle looks of concern from the techies and Frost. As much as she wanted to chew the man out for being such an asshole, she knew there were more important things to worry about. Frankie and Riley were depending on them to keep them safe and sound. That was the main focus in order to get Bone off the streets for the second, and hopefully, last time.

"Jealousy doesn't suit you," Jane whispered, ignoring the miserable expression that followed. "Hey, Agent Smith! As field operations leader, I say stay right here. No going around the block."

With a raised eyebrow, the suit looked back at Dean. "Sir?"

Dean nodded weakly, embarrassed to be called out by the tactful brunette. "It'll bring far too much unnecessary attention. For the time being, stay in front of the club."

"Yes, sir," the agent said.

"Just because you're field operations leader doesn't mean anything," Dean said calmly. His eyes narrowed in annoyance.

Sensing the slight challenge, Jane returned his glare. "If you'd stop hovering over every facet of this operation like we're all a bunch of rookies who can't even walk in a straight line without assistance then it would. And you wouldn't have to see things that clearly get your panties in a twist."

"I don't wear panties."

"Really?" Jane replied, sarcasm dripping from her words. "Could have fooled me. It's so hard to tell when a man acts like such a _bitch_ all the time."

Dean turned away from the detective. "Takes one to know one," he muttered under his breath.

"Great comeback, Dean. I'm reeling. If only we all could share in such repartee." With an exaggerated eye roll, Jane turned her attention to Frost who was still tapping furiously at the keys with an amused smile. "Has Korsak made contact yet? It's nearly 12 am. What's taking them so long?"

"Jane…"

"What?"

"Everyone younger than 40 knows that the VIPs don't show up at a hot club until around midnight. We just got a visual that Bone's arrived in that sexy Shelby GT of his. There's no need to rush. Riley doesn't want to appear too eager," Frost explained, turning the monitor to a video feed of Bone stepping out of his black muscle car wearing a casual suit.

He seems completely relaxed – no, that wasn't the right word. Confident. Some might even say powerful. Regardless of her past history with the man, Jane couldn't deny that the man exuded a palpable strength that was impossible to ignore. Each movement he made was controlled, thought out, precise. Nothing could get in his way, at least, not without a fight first.

The memory of that trial all those years ago snuck up on her, breaking past the carefully constructed walls she had built in her mind. Fear, inadequacy, anxiety…all of the usual suspects came out to play.

But before they could overwhelm her, Jane shook her head, separating herself from the past. Quickly, she refocused her attention back to the visual on Bone, now leaving the parking lot after locking his car with a twitch of his wrist.

"Can you tell whether he brought drugs with him? If we can get that lucky, we can take him down for possession right now and try to wring a confession out of him for the smuggling."

Back from his visit from Poutville, Dean handed Jane a small earpiece to listen into the audio feeds coming in. "He's too smart for that. We tried that awhile back in Miami. Earned me three weeks of waiting for Bone to feel comfortable enough to resurface," he said. "We're taking a risk just by hacking into the club's video feeds to get visuals as is. The last time we tried it with Lea we nearly getting our asses burned trying to cover our tracks."

Jane ran her hand through her tangled hair. "The more eyes we have the better. Risks are worth taking if the win is worthy enough for it."

Suddenly, a loud static sound rose up from everyone's earpieces. Jane looked at Frost in confusion, hoping he had an explanation for the noise.

"Korsak's receiver is coming into range." Frost tapped a couple of commands on his keyboard and the other techies followed his lead. "They should be within range in approximately three minutes given the level of static interference. Once he's parked, he'll give us a signal on our frequency before going radio silent so as not to arouse suspicion from security."

"And then we'll switch over to Riley's feed."

Dean nodded. "Same as the briefing. If all goes according to plan, we'll have our first big breakthrough in capturing Cisco and shutting his international smuggling ring down. Look alive, people. This could be our big chance to move forward."

-/-/-/-/-/-

"Do you see him?" Riley asked, rearranging her hair for the fifth time since entering the club thirty minutes ago.

Frankie, subtly searching the VIP rooms around them for their man, frowned. "The only thing I see are tinted windows with vague figures inside," he said. "You want me to do some recon? See what I can find out where he is?"

"No," Riley commanded. "First rule of working undercover: stay together and keep your partner in your sights. We'll keep playing the waiting game until he makes contact with us."

"And what if he doesn't?"

With a heavy sigh, Riley struggled to remain in character and not snap at her partner in the middle of an operation no matter how much his questions were getting on her nerves. In the back of her mind, she knew it was understandable for the inexperienced, young patrol cop to have dumb questions. Frankie was a kid. He had been thrown into this whole operation last minute. Frankie had little chance to learn all of the various aspects of undercover work that couldn't be taught in a crash course seminar two weeks before.

Riley appraised her expensive clubbing attire and makeup that finished her portrayal as a new elite escort in town sent to make contact with the hottest commodities on the underground scene and, hopefully, retain their business for future appointments. In reality, however, she was a high-class hooker on the prowl for Bone's attention.

For the last couple of months, they had been mostly feeling Bone out, following him to various clubs the feds knew he frequented and the couple of locations the blonde agent had provided them with who had worked the case previously.

As slow as the process was, Riley had been glad to have an opportunity to work on Frankie's skills undercover, using the simple assignments beforehand as a tutorial session for the patrol. He seemed to get most of the big concepts fairly easy, but there was no way to know for sure just how ready he was until something came about that tested his newly developed skills. Riley wasn't exactly waiting on pins and needles for that to happen.

_If he screws up – which he will, every newbie does – then I'll be dead on the floor, waiting for back-up to fish my body out of the Charles River._

She couldn't let that happen. Frankie, as much as he might distrust her for what happened in the past, was her responsibility and she hoped that he felt the same about her. The only way this operation was going to work was if they trusted each other.

"He will," Riley said encouragingly. She gave her well-dressed partner a slight smile. "Trust me."

"I might as well trust a shark," Frankie muttered bitterly. He surveyed the seething mass of dancers on the first floor moving to the beat being manipulated by the talented DJ playing his high octane mix for the crowd. Completely oblivious to the powerful men and women in the VIP boxes above their heads, they danced mindlessly in an exuberant, sensual fashion while the two undercover cops watched with guarded expressions, waiting for a sign.

Riley ignored his comment, knowing that it was a plainly obvious attempt to get her riled up because of his own nervousness. She knew exactly what he was feeling. No amount of books and personal anecdotes can ever tell a young cop how to deal with the 98 percent of waiting that came with deep undercover work like this. Some cops never learn and move on to another unit.

Hell, when she had started at the Drug Unit nearly five years ago, there had been a moment – several, actually – when she had considered leaving to take a spot in Fraud or Burglary because of the stress of being thrown into the shark tank every day with drug dealers, addicts, and junkies, left to sink or swim with little assistance. With her lead partner's experience, she had managed to find her stride and grew to love playing the new characters that defined undercover work.

Hopefully, Frankie will catch his stride also, and quickly, Riley thought.

"Can you handle this?"

Frankie looked over at Riley as he took a sip of cranberry juice. "Honestly, I have no idea. But Jane's expecting me to pull through for her and the team so I'll try my best to…trust you."

"So…if Jane told you to jump off of a building, you would hop right to it, wouldn't you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Before Riley could clarify her statement for her dumbfounded partner, an unobtrusive knock came from the other side of the room near the door. Sensing trouble, Riley immediately returned back to her character, hoping Frankie would follow suit.

"Excuse me, Miss Carmen? A visitor wishes to speak to you."

Carmen tucked the few remaining brown wisps of hair behind her ear in order to ensure a clear visual and audio transmission back to Jane and the rest of team listening in from the covert van outside.

This had to be Bone. She wasn't expecting any other kind of visitors. But the voice sounded unfamiliar. The agent that had gone undercover before had provided several auditory feeds for further analysis for the operation and Bone had never sounded like the man who just made the request.

"I think you are mistaken," David replied in an annoyed voice, taking his cue from Carmen's expression. "Miss Carmen has asked to be undisturbed for the evening."

A small muffled discussion echoed from outside before the man began to speak again. The strong sounds of the deep house beats coming from the DJ's talented hands reverberated throughout the room providing Riley with little chance to eavesdrop on the specifics of the conversation.

"The visitor is Mr.-" An awkward silence interrupted the man on the other side of the door before he coughed slightly. "Bone would like to see you personally, Miss Carmen."

Carmen turned back to David with a raised eyebrow. "I told you he'd come running after me. It's all about the enticement."

"Whatever," David muttered, standing up after taking a sip of his drink. "Let's see what Bone wants, shall we?"

The door opens to reveal, as expected, the fearful expression of the bouncer and a man that was certainly not Bone. Carmen immediately recognized the man to be one of the help and sighed. Of course it can't be as easy as that. Why would he come to me and put the ball in my court?

"You don't look like a man with the name of Bone, if you don't mind me saying," Carmen said contemptuously. She checked her manicured nails in boredom.

"Bone would like to see you for a private meeting in his VIP room across the hall."

Carmen turned to David with false enthusiasm. "Oh wow… What should I say, David?"

"How about, 'Hell no,' for starters?"

Carmen nodded. "I like…but I should add a little bit more force to make my point." She made a comical face while pondering the expression she wished to use. "Hell no am I going to waste my time with someone who has the nerve to come up to me with a lackey who looks like he doesn't even have a name," she said sarcastically. "Tell your Bone friend that if he wants to start making arrangements, he has to talk to me personally. Show me that he has the financial backing to spend time with someone like me."

"But Miss, I don't think you understand-"

Stepping from the window, David moved in a flash to grab the lackey by his collar. "No, I don't think you understand. Carmen asked to not be disturbed. She's giving you instructions for your friend Tibia or whatever the hell it is, so I suggest you run on home now and relay it back to him like a good little boy. Got it?"

Surprised at his tone, the lackey nodded before running out of the room. The bouncer closed the door behind him, leaving Riley and Frankie alone.

"Well," Riley smiled smugly, leaning back in the plush sofa. "That was a surprise. Where'd you pull that from?"

"Pull what from?"

"That swagger. I didn't know you had it in you."

Frankie smiled. "I just pretended you were my sister and that guy was her ex-fiancé. I can't stand that jerk for leaving her to run off to Vegas."

"I didn't know Jane had been engaged," Riley whispered. She couldn't even imagine the tall, brunette with a man now that she had seen her with Maura. It must have been a while ago but still… Was there anything else she didn't know about the older detective? And what kind of a dolt would get engaged to a woman as beautiful and smart as Jane Rizzoli and then _leave_? The guy must have been blind _and_ deaf to let that go.

"Yep, she was engaged," Frankie said sadly. "Imagine the guy that played Severus Snape in _Harry Potter_ but 25 years younger and with stupid James Dean hair. That's Eric in a nutshell."

Before Riley could respond, however, the door opened with the bouncer carrying a tray on which a bottle of Courvoisier 21 and two crystal scotch glasses were placed. Making up the rear was the same lackey from earlier, this time looking considerably more respectful of Carmen and David.

"Bone is in the middle of business affairs that require his full attention but he sends the finest cognac in his stead. If you'd prefer another something else, he has insisted that it go on his credit, Miss."

Carmen looked between the lackey's respectful gaze and the magnificence of the honey hued cognac sitting on the small table before her. She hadn't been expecting such a daring response from the man who had, up till now, been ignoring her presence. Apparently, after subtly following him for the last three months, he had decided to throw her a bone – pun not intended – and let her meet with him.

_God, I hope Jane's hearing this._

"David," Carmen said calmly. "I know I'm busy for tonight but clearly this Bone character wants to see me. I don't think he's going to go away."

David shook his head in quiet refusal. "You already have several clients on the books. We're on a tight schedule."

"Then we'll just have to make it a little tighter, won't we?" Carmen stood up in her black, strappy stilettos after handing the bottle of cognac to David with a smile. "The last time I got served expensive liquor on a platter ended up with a sizeable check. And you know how much I love money, David."

With a sigh, David took out his phone and began typing rapid-fire on the keyboard to rearrange Carmen's schedule for the unscheduled meeting between her and Bone. Part of him was tempted to send out a confirmation to Jane asking if the receiver was working before heading into Bone's room, but both his sister and his partner had told him that sending things out over an unsecured line could get them in trouble if the signal was being tracked. The best thing was to wait and hope that everything was running smoothly on the feds' end.

Ushered politely out of the room, David and Carmen followed the lackey down the hall to Bone's VIP room that was more similar to an office than a place where wild parties were started. The interior was mostly the same as their own room except for the tinted windows, soundproof walls, and large desk situated in the middle of the room. Carmen couldn't help wondering how many illegal substances had been set on the table while Bone conducted his business.

"Sir," the lackey called out quietly. "Miss Carmen and her assistant David are here."

From the couch facing the bouncing lights of the club downstairs, a gruff sound of agreement rose up through the air. Apparently that was all the confirmation needed and the lackey left, closing the door behind him.

"Sorry for the cloak and dagger routine," Bone gruffly replied, reminding Carmen of the time she saw the lions at the zoo. "I was finishing up a call with an associate."

Bone stood up from the couch and walked over to offer his hand in a friendly, non-sexual manner.

"I only have a brief moment before I have to leave, so I'll cut to the chase, Miss Carmen."

"It's actually just Carmen," Carmen whispered, slightly mesmerized by the tall man's charisma. He wasn't jaw-droppingly beautiful, but the strength in his eyes, in his carriage, in the way he subtly controlled the situation was plainly obvious. She could easily see him controlling an international drug smuggling operation single-handedly.

Bone attempted a smile. "Carmen, Carmen, Carmen. I always say a name I like three times. Helps it stick in my head," he said. "I've seen you around. A woman as beautiful as yourself shouldn't be sitting alone in the kinds of clubs you frequent."

David stepped forward proudly, unperturbed by the hold Bone had over his partner. "Carmen has very exclusive clientele that have business interests in varying locations. And she's hardly sitting alone."

"And who are you supposed to be? Her aide-de-camp?"

"Yes," David said smugly. He was glad he had listened to Maura's daily vocabulary enhancement lessons. "I am her personal assistant. You really think an escort can handle complex math and scheduling of various clients while trying to be Sexy Schoolgirl?"

Bone narrowed his eyes as he turned back to Carmen. "You have other clients?"

"Obviously… That's kinda how I make my money."

"Then we have a problem," Bone replied simply. "I'd prefer it if you'd make me your primary interest. For security reasons, of course."

Carmen laughed heartily, refusing to let the commanding man take control away from her. If he wants me, it's going to be on my terms. Getting in Bone's main circle of trust was the primary goal at this stage but playing the passive, easily led play-toy wasn't the way to achieve that. If she had read him right, Bone didn't want a submissive doll to pose. None of his type ever did.

Even though Dean had made it clear for Riley to follow the intel gathered by the feds prior to their involvement, Jane had given her the clearance to make decisions that were smart and not necessarily guided by federal assistance. Unlike Dean, she knew what went into deep undercover assignments like this. Sometimes tough choices had to be made based off of prior experience. And, at this moment, Riley's mind was telling her to run contrary to the feds' advice and push the issue slightly with Bone.

It was beyond risky, but it was a calculated risk that she was willing to gamble the entire operation on.

"Security my ass. Listen, Mr. Bone. I don't know what Russian village you popped up from but I make my living servicing men and women. I happen to be damn good at my job. Because of that, I have a long wait list for clients. Do you really think I'm just going to throw my potential profit out the window for yet another control freak who wants to treat me like his Rolls?" Carmen rolled her eyes before strolling casually back to the door with David in tow. "I'm not trying to be mean. Believe me, I'd like to be in a position where I didn't have to sell my body to the highest bidder, but I know that's not going to happen anytime soon. When you've got a quota to fill, you've got to be McDonalds. Get in, get out."

As Carmen strutted toward the door in no particular rush, Bone gave a subtle smirk of satisfaction. "Then I'll make sure you fill your quota. Money is of little interest to me." He quickly took out his wallet and, with a relaxed stroll, took out several rolls of crisp $100 dollar bills, handing them out to David. "A little taste of what I can offer you in exchange for your full time, Miss Carmen."

Quietly, David took the money and counted it in front of them. "Exactly $5,000 dollars. As flattered as we are by your contribution, this is by no means a guarantee of her services. This barely covers the upfront fee."

"Of course. The money will be paid in full as soon as you consult with your superiors."

"I'm sure you will," David said nonchalantly. He turned his attention back to the amused expression on Carmen's face. "We should be going. We have a long-standing appointment with a regular."

Carmen nodded pleasantly, keeping her eyes away from Bone's lecherous glare. "Give him a card, David."

With little fanfare, David handed the tall, imposing man a small piece of cardstock with all of the usual things listed in a plain typeface. Unbeknownst to Bone, however, the card contained a tracking device that was next to undetectable, providing the feds with an opportunity to gather information on the drugs being smuggled into Boston.

But it only worked if Bone went to the locations where they were being held which, up till now, no one could figure out. Given the device's short battery life – automatically destructing itself after 24 hours –, the hope was that Bone would give them something, anything, of potential use, but no one was putting too much on it to succeed. In order to run a multi-billion dollar illegal drug smuggling business, Cisco couldn't be that stupid to lead them directly to the drugs.

Suddenly, a vibration sound rose from Bone's hand as his phone rang. He looked down at it and frowned at the name flashing for his attention. Both Carmen and David tried to read the name but the phone was gone in a flash.

"Business calls," Bone beamed in a pleasant manner, taking the card from David's hand. "I'll call you when I'm free. I expect your boss to approve my offer."

And just like that, the man had slipped out of the VIP room, leaving the two undercover officers alone with nothing but silence. With a sigh of relief, Riley turned back to Frankie with an exuberant smile.

"Looks like we're in business," she said. "Call Korsak and tell him we're done for the night. Hopefully, these earrings did their job right and Jane saw all of that."

-/-/-/-/-/-

Back in the van, Jane and the rest of the team had received the visual and audio signals from Riley and Frankie's undercover work perfectly. On several occasions, she had wanted to provide verbal assistance to them while they navigated the dangerous world of dealing with Bone while maintaining their cover, but they did well. She had been expecting the worst given their lack of experience yet they had somehow managed to pull through.

After Korsak had relayed a short message back that he had picked them up safely and was heading back to their condo for the night, Dean had nearly went crazy trying to push the issue of having a meet with them to gather information and plan accordingly. Jane had insisted otherwise and, with much effort on her part, she had asserted that there was plenty of time in the morning to confer with them. What they needed now was sleep.

Reluctantly, Dean had seen the wisdom in the detective's words. He had agreed to break for the morning, ordering the driver to drop Jane and Frost off at their homes before heading back to the feds' safe-house. Thank god, Jane thought, happily. There was only so much even she could take before collapsing in complete exhaustion.

And now, the exhausted detective trudged toward the closed door of her home. Barely noticing Maura's sweet gesture of leaving the light on for her, Jane struggled to find her keys – damn it, are these pockets getting bigger? – to let her into the house. After what felt like a small decade, her hands grasped the metal key-ring in her coat pocket, barely managing to fit the grooved ridges inside the hole to release the lock. The cold air from earlier had lowered to what felt like 5 degrees Fahrenheit given how late it was and her breathe wafted through the tangled mass of brown locks.

So this is how it feels to be Frosty the Snowman, Jane mused.

Opening the door with a blessed sigh of relief, Jane reveled in the comforting warmth of her home. Her limbs began to slowly melt, releasing hot blood throughout her body as she took of the heavy, black coat that had since lost all comfortableness after the first shift of sitting in a cold van with a bunch of men. It had been nearly three months and still found the process unbelievably draining.

Waiting, waiting, and – you guessed it – waiting some more. She was starting to remember one of the many reasons she had been ecstatic to leave the Drug Unit all of those years ago. No more waiting on paint to dry while the rest of the team gets to have all of the fun.

Her limbs now fully thawed, Jane unzipped her boots while making her way upstairs to the bedroom where the Promise Land resided. It would be foolish to anyone else but spending a couple of blissful hours cuddled up to Maura in their king sized bed – after kicking Jo and, sometimes, Bass out – while breathing in the unique cinnamon aroma of the blonde's shampoo covering the sheets was her idea of utter perfection.

"Jane?" Maura's confused voice echoed out from the closed door. "Is that you? Because if it isn't, I've got a bat and I'm sort of scared to use it."

_What is she doing up? She can't really be having a craving at 3 o' clock in the morning._

"Oh, wait!" Maura exclaimed. "My wife told me to be more assertive when making threats. Damn it, I got that all wrong. Listen, if you are an intruder could you go look at my pet tortoise on the first floor while I finish my gumskitminchoco ice cream? We'll just rewind and pretend we've never talked. Is that alright with you?"

Opening the door, Jane shook her head in amusement at the blonde sitting cross-legged on the bed while munching on a spoonful of gross-looking ice cream from the bowl in the middle of her legs. Eugh…what has she concocted now?

"Honey…ice cream isn't supposed to be lumpy last time I checked."

Maura gave a big smile, her mouth full of multi-colored bits of candy. "Well I tried putting it in the blender but the gummy worms liquefied and the Skittles tasted weird." She held out a big spoonful for the brunette to taste. "Wants some? It's delicious."

"Yeah, I'm sure it is given how wonky your hormones have made you with that baby developing in there," Jane said. She pointed at Maura's slightly swollen stomach.

"So you don't want to be brave and try it for me?"

"Fine, fine," Jane muttered reluctantly, walking forward to take the dripping spoonful of ice cream in her mouth. "It'd be better without the gummy worms and Skittles in my opinion."

Maura stuck out her tongue coquettishly. "Sour-puss."

"Sticks and stones, sticks and stones," Jane said off-handedly. She threw her boots in their assigned corner of the bedroom. "And stop being so nice."

"What do you mean?"

"You can't say to an intruder, 'Come back to rape me later. I'm finishing my late-night craving for nasty-ass ice cream.'"

"Hey," Maura gasped, shaking her blonde locks at the detective beginning to strip in front of her. "Don't curse in front of the baby."

"It's only like three months old, Maura."

"Good habits start early," Maura said eagerly. She pumped her fist in enthusiasm. "Several studies have suggested that establishing correct behavior occurs slowly over time."

Jane rolled her eyes. Even in the middle of the night, she couldn't stop with the factoids. "Maura…"

"Fine, I'll try to be more assertive. But I can't help that I'm nice. What do you want me to do? Yell at the person," Maura lowered her voice in a comical impersonation of Jane, "'Fuck you, muthafucka! This is _my_ house! Jane Rizzoli lives here and she will fuck you up!'"

Jane nearly choked at Maura's impression. "I don't think you want to say that, honey."

"Really?" Maura breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank god, 'cause I don't think it works when I say it. You have gravitas when it comes to those sorts of situations that I, happily, lack."

With a laugh, Jane sat on the white bed sheets, snuggling into the warm sheets as they comforted her naked body. "It's not gravitas, honey. I'm a badass. Anything with fuck in it is a badass's catchphrase. Do we have to get out _Die Hard_ again?"

"I'd rather watch that over _Police Academy_ for the fiftieth time."

Jane released a shocked sigh. "C'mon, PoAc is the best film ever made."

"I don't know where you got that fact, honey. I've told you numerous times that Wikipedia is not a valid source for an academic argument," Maura said jokingly. "According to AFI, the best film ever is _Citizen Kane_, which, in all honesty, I'd have to agree with the critics over your personal recommendation of PoAc." With a smirk, she drove another spoonful of her half-melted concoction in her mouth. "And could you stop calling it PoAc? Sounds like potassium acetate."

As her body began to settle into her usual spot on the right hand side of the large bed, Jane raised an eyebrow. "And what the hell's supposed to be potassium acetate?"

"A catalyst."

Jane stared at the blonde with a blank look.

"Umm…it's used occasionally as a food additive and for mummification?"

_Okay…that's a great visual to have at two in the morning. Leave it to Maura…_

"Jane…may I tell you something?"

"You finally found a new chief medical examiner for your temporary leave?" Jane managed to ask as her head began to settle against the warm pillow. As usual, the bed was filled with the comforting aroma of cinnamon and citrus, putting a tired smile on the brunette's face.

"Jane," Maura whined, wiping away a stray strand of mint-chocolate chip ice cream from her chin with her long tongue. "I'm serious. Stop trying to change subjects on me. It's late."

In amused annoyance, Jane rolled her eyes. "Sorry, sweetheart. What's so deadly important all of a sudden? If it has anything to do with those new Sartore hooker heels, I'm going to have to get a doctor's note to prove to you that pregnant women shouldn't be wearing five-inch, black, knee-high, stilettos. Unless you want to take on a new line of employment as a vigilante streetwalker who uses her scalpels of justice in the day and her killer assets at night."

"Jane…," Maura pouted, poking the cocooned detective in the scar tissue.

"Fine," Jane said. She squirmed away from her girlfriend's poking attack. "What's so important?"

Maura took a deep breath. "Angela came by unannounced today."

"Is that all? You know my mother."

"Well…yes, I'm familiar with your mother's tendencies. But this time…when she came over…she saw my…umm – how should I say it? – predicament," Maura said hesitantly, embarrassed. "When she asked me outright about it… Well, you know I can't lie. I wanted too but I'm just so piss-pot at it. So I just, well…you know…I told her about us. Being pregnant. Well, actually me but being in it together, as a family. But, on a positive note, it wasn't the whole story but the shortened summary version."

Wait…what did she say? Maura wouldn't have done that. Not after they had spent an entire weekend bickering back and forth about the best time to share the news with their families. Maura had wanted to wait until the second trimester while Jane, on the other hand, didn't see an issue with waiting until the baby was born to share it with them.

Absolutely speechless, Jane slowly uncovered her head from the warmth of the comforter to give Maura a serious look. "You didn't."

"I did," Maura mumbled, starting to bite her nails nervously. "But it's not a big deal. The chance of miscarriage lowers significantly by the third to fourth month. There's no harm in telling them a little earlier than originally planned-"

"Why didn't you lie? Or even attempt to lie? And what were you doing? Answering the phone naked?" Jane interrupted, asking questions in her rapid-fire, interrogator way.

Confused at her lover's response, Maura stopped munching on her nails to give her anxious girlfriend a disapproving look. "Honey, what's with the dramatics? It's not like we can have this baby without our parents knowing eventually."

"I know that. It's just…," the brunette took a shaky sigh, "I'm not ready to bring in the family yet. Being a mom…I still need to come to terms with that, nonetheless dealing with my family and your family's endless poking and prodding about names, onesies, and the like. Now that my ma' knows, I'm forced to deal with it much earlier than I thought I'd have to be."

"Jane…I'm sorry," Maura said apologetically. She reached out for Jane. "I didn't know that was how you felt. God, I'm so insensitive."

"Whatever."

"We can talk about it?"

Jane brought the comforter back over her head, squirming over to the far end of the bed, away from Maura. "I'm tired."

"So you're not mad?"

"No, I'm perfectly fine," Jane said sardonically. Her brown eyes began to close as the rising wave of sleep overwhelmed the exhausted detective.


	21. Chapter 21

-/-/-Chapter 21-/-/-

Nearly two weeks of silence and simmering anger had passed since Maura's forced confession in Jane's mother about their pregnancy. Jane was being incredibly inflexible about the issue, refusing to talk to Maura besides the required pleasantries and discussions needed to continue life as a couple. Intimacy was out of the question. The last time they had made love had been ages ago and, understandably, Maura was finding the wait to be depressing.

Depressing and debilitating, Maura thought miserably. Work had been out of the question with the lackluster energy and morning sickness that came with the baby. Luckily, Dr. Pike and the rest of her team were able to cover the slack during the relatively slow winter months until the rough aspects of the first trimester subsided. If it was up to her, she would have no problem letting Suzy take over in her absence, but knew it would be wiser to have someone other than her interns working the autopsies that came through the morgue on a daily basis.

Maura sighed in exhaustion as her hand rose toward her stomach. Reluctantly, she had taken the medicine prescribed by Dr. Rose to ease the nausea, but the low energy was still a problem. She hated taking the pills for various reasons and tried to avoid taking them at all costs. Jane had noticed and quickly began using clever methods to get the woman to take the offensive green tablets. If it hadn't of been for this mid-afternoon appointment at the OBGYN's office to do another mandatory monthly check-up, Maura would have been at home trying to gather a few more viable candidates for the temporary position of chief medical examiner while on maternity leave.

The baby's health was far more important to her than work, however, and she made herself get in the car and drive down to the clinic. It hardly helped matters that Jane had decided to find something, anything to do down at the secret FBI safe-house instead of accompanying her. Maura wasn't thrilled to have her lover bail on her because of a stupid, petty disagreement but, at the same time, at least she didn't have to deal with the brunette's endless huffing and puffing that arose from her throat whenever forced to do something she didn't want to do.

I still miss her…so much, Maura thought, reaching up weakly to knock the familiar office door labeled with Dr. Rose's name. It was hard handling her anxiety concerning the baby without Jane's comforting coolness providing her with support.

With a heavy sigh, Maura rapped on the door in a polite manner. "Dr. Rose, it's Maura for our appointment."

"Dr. Isles," Dr. Rose called out from behind the closed door. "Come in, come in, come in. The door is open."

Maura walked into the office, immediately welcomed into the personal space with the maternal woman's warm, friendly smile. As usual, Dr. Rose was positively ecstatic to see her patient come in and discuss the pregnancy. On several occasions, the blonde had wished she hadn't had such a fear of people back in medical school in order to be able to help mothers like the older woman did every day.

Dr. Rose stood up to greet Maura. "And how's the first trimester treating you?" she asked sweetly, walking casually over to help the woman sit down in the large, comfortable sofa near the window looking out to the grey landscape of Boston covered in snow, sleet, and slush.

"The usual," Maura said. She lowered herself to the couch.

"So the medication hasn't helped the nausea and lethargic tendencies?" Dr. Rose made a small notation on her iPad, clicking in a few notes with a rapid typing speed. "I'd really rather not increase the dosage given this is your first pregnancy. And with you just beginning your second trimester…"

"I'm sure the medication would work better if I took it as prescribed."

Dr. Rose looked up, her maternal charm still present even while giving a concerned frown. "Maura, we've talked about this. You of all people should understand the importance of following instructions with medication. Modern medicine is about re-establishing balance with the body to promote well-being and health. The only way to achieve that balance is by experimenting to see which medicines work best with your body. Ignoring the instructions defeats that purpose."

"I know, it's just…I don't like how it makes me feel." Maura shook her head with a sigh. "Working is hard enough as is, Doctor. Being horny all the time makes things that much more difficult."

With an understanding smile, Dr. Rose leaned back in the sofa. "Ahh, so that's it," she said. The doctor placed the iPad down on the coffee table in front of them. "I really wish you would call me whenever things get weird or out of sorts before you make executive decisions regarding your care. But, in this case, I understand. Medicine can have endless side-effects."

"Do you have any other solutions? The Fenexpral is supposed to be a good treatment option with low-dosage risk for the developing fetus."

Dr. Rose frowned. "But it's mostly untested, and this is your first pregnancy. It's far too risky to try new medications without a frame of reference to how your body will react. Do you mind if I suggest alternative remedies or would that be unfeasible?"

"Unfeasible?" Maura asked, tilting her head in confusion. "What do you mean by that?"

"Dietary restrictions. Allergies, religious practices, that sort of thing."

"No, it's fine. I'm allergy and restriction free. I've been trying to get healthy for the baby anyway. Taking out all of the unnecessary sodium, saturated fats, processed foods, and excess corn and protein for starters."

"And what about sugar?"

Maura smiled. "Jane said she'd murder me if I didn't let her have bacon chocolate. And I've been absolutely mad with cravings for anything with sugar. Just last night, I had to force myself not to head down to Boston Joe's for a piece of iced lemon pound cake."

"There's hardly anything wrong with a little indulgence for the new mommy-to-be."

"Did I mention the craving was at 3 o'clock in the morning?" Maura deadpanned. "Nothing says, 'I have a problem,' like driving to BCU, waiting in line with a bunch of sleep-addled college students studying for winter finals, and hoping the barista doesn't ask to see my ID that's about – oh, I don't know – 20 years old now."

Dr. Rose released a small chuckle at the visual of the pristine blonde standing amongst a group of twenty-somethings looking to fulfill a late-night craving fix. "And how have the cravings been? Getting better, I hope?"

"They were until Jane's ridiculous need to fight over nothing," Maura muttered bitterly, biting her nails subconsciously at the thought of her pissed off lover. God, I hope she didn't hear…

But Maura's hopes were dashed. The doctor wasn't an idiot. Immediately, the older woman jumped on the obvious source of tension for the teary eyed blonde.

"Speaking of Jane," Dr. Rose began in her typical sweet, motherly tone. "I'm going to go out on a limb and assume there's trouble in paradise given her obvious absence. Unnecessary stress isn't good for the baby."

Unexpectedly, Maura felt the tell-tale quivering of her upper lip, signaling a reaction she had not been prepared for. And, right on cue, a trail of warm tears made their way out of her eyes just as her body began to crumble in defeat against the sofa. Her hands came up to her face in a cheap effort to hide the tears from the doctor but nothing could muffle the clawing shriek of misery that rose from her lungs.

As much as she wanted to stop this unusual public display of emotion in front of a woman she hardly knew, Maura couldn't contain the pain that had developed over the weeks since her decision to tell Angela about the baby. But Dr. Rose, unperturbed, sat quietly next to the wailing blonde, patting her shivering back as she uttered words of comfort.

After a long moment, Maura simultaneously coughed and shuddered, "God…I'm so sorry for this."

"Maura… I can assure you, I've seen far more emotional displays in my office than a couple of tears and a scream." With a beaming grin, Dr. Rose grabbed a box of tissues and held it out to Maura who eagerly took it. "Sometimes new mommies need a good, long cry."

Maura managed to laugh as she mopped up the snot running down her nose.

"There you go. You're laughing. Laughing means you'll be alright," Dr. Rose said encouragingly. "Now, here comes the hard part. What did Jane do?"

"You won't tell her that I told you like this? You know…," Maura shrugged dispassionately, avoiding the doctor's sympathetic eyes, "with the waterworks and what not?"

"Of course not. Doctor-patient confidentiality is always in effect with any conversation you have with me."

With a shaky sigh, Maura closed her eyes after leaning her throbbing head against the cool leather of the sofa. "I screwed up telling her mother about us being pregnant. But it wasn't like I had much of a choice in the matter. She came by unannounced and started asking all of these impossibly difficult questions…what was I supposed to do? Attempt to lie and wait for my body's response to give me away? But it doesn't seem to matter to Jane. She's just being so difficult about the whole thing. The last two weeks have been torture trying to get anything more than a hello or goodbye from her. Damn it, I don't even know why she's so mad at me anymore, and yet I have no idea how to deal with this."

Dr. Rose nodded while Maura continued to clean up her ruddy face, blowing her nose loudly.

"For all of my intelligence, I am at a complete loss. Jane doesn't want to talk to me but how am I supposed to deal with this without her verbal input?" Maura asked, moving to start pulling out her brown eyebrows as the anxiety continued to build. "She's being such a child. So what I told Angela? It's not like she's been running around spilling her guts to everyone at work. She had to know at some point anyway."

With a small cough, Dr. Rose interrupted the blonde, pleasant smile still intact, "Maura, may I ask you something?"

"Of course, Doctor."

"How have you been handling the pregnancy?"

Maura tilted her head in confusion. "What? What does that have to do with anything?"

"Spouses can subconsciously react to the birth mother's emotional state. During the first trimester, hormones can make things quite problematic. It might seem trivial, but the first three to four months are a critical source of tension in a relationship for first time parents."

"I don't understand," Maura said. Her eyebrows furrowed as her attention turned to the woman next to her.

"Have you ever considered that Jane's reaction to your small transgression is a result of reciprocated stress building in your own sphere of influence? Think about it. Have you recently had issues with your job or aspects in your life that have become problematic?"

Looking back, Maura had to admit that things had gotten fairly hectic lately in their household. Searching for a new temporary medical examiner to take her place was proving to be far more difficult than she had originally planned; Jane's constantly fluctuating hours because of the undercover operation with the feds was sapping away energy from them both; and the daily growing trials and tribulations of being pregnant for the first time were all starting to add up.

Before they had decided to go forward with the pregnancy, she had naively thought they would be able to handle it together like every other obstacle placed in their way since they had gotten together. Nothing had been easy but Maura had never stopped loving Jane and she knew the feeling had been reciprocated. Love had seen them through those threats. Now, on the other hand, it seemed like they weren't just going up against one threat but multiple. Being pregnant was one thing, her job was another, and Jane's responsibilities to herself and her team to catch Cisco was a whole other bag of carrots.

It's no surprise we're having a fight about something stupid like this, Maura contemplated. With everything else going on, Jane probably felt overwhelmed. Adding her mother and the task of informing their families about the pregnancy would seem like yet another burden to handle. And – what was that expression she liked to use? – another burden could be the one that broke the camel's hump. Why she had never thought of it that way, Maura had no idea but, in her mind, it made little difference.

_This is the same woman that told me stress is her fertilizer. Why would telling her mother make her so annoyed?_

"May I offer some advice?" Dr. Rose asked quietly.

Maura nodded distractedly.

"Ever since the first appointment with the two of you, I've noticed Jane's reluctance to be a new mommy. Nothing wrong with that, by the way. Some parents need more time to process than others."

Maura frowned. "Jane is fine now. We've been communicating. Working things out as a couple."

"And that's fantastic," Dr. Rose said. "But have you considered that with all of the busy, busy, busy going on in both of your lives, things might fall between the cracks? A relationship is work except you can't leave when things get stressful. Adding a baby to that volatile mix is always difficult. Jane could still be having issues with being a mother. Telling the parents might be too much for her to process given the fact that she has yet to fully process it herself."

"What?" Maura asked bewilderedly, shaking her head as if trying to push back the obvious. "That's…not right…."

Suddenly, the muffled sound of vibration rose from the blonde's Fendi bag. At the same time, the two women turned to the sound in varying degrees of shock.

"I am so sorry, Doctor," Maura said. She moved her hand toward her bag to grab the smartphone. "I thought I turned this off before coming in. It's probably just Pike freaking out about one of the techies calling him dude again."

"Maura…I really think we should talk about this in further detail."

Maura nodded dismissively. "And what did I tell you? Work," she sighed, holding the phone up for the doctor to see the name displayed on the screen. "If I don't answer, Pike will become even more…stressful. Do you mind if I take this? If you'd prefer, I can take it outside?"

Dr. Rose shook her head in agreement, motioning to a small alcove in the office where the blonde could have some privacy to deal with the problem at work. With a sigh, she shook her head at Maura's actions. For some reason that managed to elude the experienced doctor, she seemed to avoid any mention of Jane's possible dissent from the pregnancy. Slightly worried for her patient, she immediately wondered how the blonde's partner was taking things after their little spat.

-/-/-/-/-/-

Jane wasn't doing much better. She had been sitting on the backyard patio trying earnestly with her tools and masculine bravado to reconnect the water main to Maura's Jacuzzi to ensure the pipes didn't freeze from disuse over the winter. As frustrating as it was to do the time-consuming job of acting as Mr. Fix-It for the Isles-Rizzoli home, she knew it was a lot cheaper than spending over four grand on new pipes when nature started to thaw out by March.

While tightening yet another bolt on the pipe on her stomach, Jane felt the long trail of sweat crawling down a perilous journey to the nape of her neck. God, she hated that feeling especially when it was next to fifteen degrees outside and she was forced to bundle up in winter gear just to go outside for maintenance. If it had been up to her, she would have gone out in a wife-beater and some shorts but Maura, good ol' Miss Safety First, had insisted that if she was going to spend the day working on the house instead of following through with her other responsibilities then she had to be safe while doing it.

It pained her to admit it but they had been fighting. She was still pissed about Maura's decision to tell Angela about the pregnancy. For some reason, the woman didn't seem to understand the weight of the issue. Telling her mother about the pregnancy forced her to recognize that she was going to be a mother. How can I expect to tell her that when _I_ can't even believe it some days?

On the other hand, Jane saw that her current standoffish behavior with Maura wasn't mature and was doing more harm than good to the overall situation. She knew that she would have to talk to her at some point about everything. But talking was one thing. Understanding was something else entirely.

She loved Maura with every ounce of her being and wanted nothing more but for them to talk like they used to before the big fight. Maura was her soul mate, if she wanted to get sappy about it. The goofy medical examiner knew everything about her worth knowing. She could care less about all of her flaws and tendencies.

"Damn it," Jane cursed angrily at the inanimate silver pipe. "Could you be any more difficult?"

The sound of metal on metal rang out across the backyard causing Jo Friday to come out barking in concern. Bass was close behind his frienemy, snapping in a somewhat aggressive show of force – looking more like he had peanut butter in his mouth again.

Hearing the sudden noise, Jane turned to the direction of the main house. "Oh no, I'm sorry you two. Didn't mean to bring out the cavalry. It's just housework."

Seeing her owner, Jo wagged her tail in expectation of a game of fetch. Bass, on the other hand, feeling the cold brick tiles on his feet, decided to return back to the warmth of his climate controlled room. Smart turtle, Jane mused.

"Ruff-ruff!"

"No, Jo, I can't play right now. Mommy's gotta finish this goddam, stupid job of making sure the pipes don't freeze like they did last year," Jane complained, returning her focus back to the icy, cold pipes silently mocking her. "Mommy Maura was in a fit for weeks, crying about how she couldn't relax after work on summer evenings."

"Ruff! Rrruff, ruff!"

Jane nodded. "Exactly what I said. Sitting in a Jacuzzi just makes her turn into a big, boiled beet. Can't tell her that though."

Just as Jane began to laugh at the image of her girlfriend with a sunburn – a rare occurrence given the woman's hatred of sun without copious amounts of sunblock –, the pipes finally decided to show that they really weren't frozen by gushing a warm flow of water in the brunette's face. The water was ridiculously cold.

"God…fuck me!" Jane exclaimed, grasping at her tools to get the water to turn off. "Where's the stupid wrench when you need it?"

With the water gushing angrily in her face, she struggled to find the wrench against the blast, barely registering the sound of the doorbell and Jo's echoing barks in response.

Thanks for the help, Jo. Really. Thanks for going the extra mile for your master by running to something else entirely.

Somehow Jane managed to wrench the nut back into place tight against the pipe, leaving the detective staring awkwardly at it as the water fell from her wet hair and face. The sound of the doorbell came back to her attention and she slowly stood up to walk back inside and welcome the visitor.

"Listen, Maura, I've told you like ten times. The emergency key is under the hydrangea bush," Jane said. She opened the front door to reveal Angela Rizzoli's worried face.

"Jane! Where's Maura? Is she alright? I wanted to bring an extra pot of the Rizzoli family secret soup. It ensures healthy development of a new baby-"

"Please, Ma, stop rambling for like fifteen seconds and tell me specifically why you're here," Jane interrupted, rubbing her temples in exhaustion. "The last thing I want to do is spend my one day of not running around in a van with Agent Dean with my nagging, loving, overly nosy mother."

"I just wanted to check in on my two daughters."

"And that's why Skype was invented."

Angela sighed. "What's wrong with you and Maura?"

"What do you mean?" Jane exclaimed in shock. "We're fine."

"Don't lie, Jane. Anytime you get all snippy is usually a sign that you two have had an argument over something or other."

_Damn you, woman. Do you have to be so nosy all of the time?_

"I'm fine, Ma," Jane muttered, walking into the house. "Just finishing up some much needed housework. Maura went out for an appointment. Shouldn't you be at BPD anyway?"

Closing the door behind her, Angela walked into the small foyer behind her daughter. "Stanley let me have the day off."

"You mean the café burned down," Jane added jokingly.

"No, for your information, he said I deserve to have a day off because of all of my hard work."

Jane gave her mother a look of disbelief before sitting down on the couch in the living room.

"Well…actually, he had to give me the day off because the Workers Association was threatening to fine him. All of the overtime he's made me work without compensation came back to haunt him." Angela said, shrugging. "His loss is my gain. I'm on early Christmas leave which means Maura and I can start buying baby stuff. And we should probably start picking out maternity clothes…"

Jane pumped her fist with faux excitement. "Yeah, I'm so excited," she said sarcastically. She dreaded the mention of shopping on Newbury Street for hours at a time again with her mother and Maura. Newbury Street was quickly turning into the new pink canopy in how quickly it weakened the brunette into a near death status.

"So where's Maura? What kind of an appointment does a pregnant woman have to go to without her wife coming along as a much needed source of support?"

"Ma…please, it really isn't your business to ask-"

Oblivious to her daughter's reluctance to discuss the issue, Angela interrupted her with an enthusiastic shriek, "Is it about the baby? I bet it is. I am just so happy the two of you have decided to finally move forward with your relationship. The clock has been ticking since you two got together. We should start picking names out and, oh my god, what about clothes? I haven't even considered the onesies that need to get made…"

Jane shook her head tiredly. How did she always manage to do this? Their pregnancy was no longer a personal matter but now a new source of gossip for her mother to focus on. Looking back, she knew that this was what had concerned her most about Maura's confession. Ma was a constant source of stress. With everything else she had going on, the last thing the detective could tolerate was her mother's propensity toward creating trouble.

"Mother," Jane said. She ran her hand through her tangled web of hair. "Maura shouldn't have even have told you about that. I'd really appreciate it if you'd just pretend as if she hadn't of said anything."

"And what about Maura? How does she feel about the issue?"

"I don't know and it doesn't matter. We share the same sentiment."

"I really doubt that, Jane." Angela said. She took her boots off to reveal bright red, Christmas stockings. "Maura's pregnant. Stop being so selfish and understand where she's coming from. I know you might not think of it as a big deal but, I can assure you, she probably needs someone she can talk to right now. Someone who gets what she's going through."

Jane frowned. "I get what she's going through just fine."

"But when's the last time you've been pregnant, honey? Maura needs an experienced ear to listen to all of the things going on with her body and mind at the moment. Not to mention that you're never here."

"Really?" Jane asked with a raised eyebrow. "That was totally uncalled for. I'm here as much as I can be for both Maura and the baby."

"Then why aren't you with her right now?"

"Because…because I'm working on keeping the pipes from freezing again," Jane muttered, running her hand through her hair. Her weak excuse fooled no one, not even herself. "My responsibilities don't just stop because we're having a baby. Things have to be taken care of."

Angela shook her head with a knowing smile. "But what's more important, Jane? Using house chores and work as an excuse to hide behind or being there for the woman you love?"

Unable to provide a proper answer to that question, Jane stood up and made her way back to the door leading to the guesthouse and outside patio. She heard her mother's muffled feet behind her while tying her long hair up in a flimsy bun to get it out of her face.

"You finished picking at my life?"

"Are you finished treating Maura like your dog?"

Jane turned away slightly. "How about we change the subject? You can start talking about names and I'll run them by Maura when she gets back."

With a shriek of excitement, Angela trapped Jane in an unexpected embrace. "I just can't believe my only daughter is having a child of her own with my honorary daughter. This is so exciting."

"Ma!" Jane exclaimed, squirming out of the embrace. "I don't like hugs. C'mon…we can do this after the baby is born. Or, better yet, save it for when Maura gets back from the appointment."

-/-/-/-/-/-

Oscar hated the winter months. Every winter involved the same needless contemplation to move her business to her old childhood home in Argentina to escape the harsh snow that came along with it. As she stared at the blizzard coating the window in a fine, crystalized powder of snow from her bedroom, her cold expression thawed slightly as the pleasant memories of childhood adventures and naiveté reminded her of a life passed many years ago. If there was more to do, she wouldn't have to think these things.

Most of the employees and her business partners wanted nothing to do with the cold landscape, allowing her to escape the scrutiny that arose from their close inspection of her dealings with their money. Having more time to focus on her personal affairs was always nice even for a woman as isolated as she chose to be.

But, on the other hand, productivity lowered dramatically. Everyone wanted to be home with their families, cat, and metaphorical Uncle Guido who had a reprehensible habit of drinking far too much at all the wrong times. It was ridiculous to place so much importance on trivial connections. But few shared her sentiment.

Inevitably, Oscar's business – both legal and illegal – slowed to a miserable crawl, forcing her to slow down with it. If it hadn't of been for the high sanctions and duties she would have been forced to pay, she would have set up her drug smuggling business in China given the never-ending supply of hardworking workers. Each day that resulted in lower figures meant less profit on her end in which she could put into her main interest. And now, more than ever, the money was desperately needed.

Damn it, Oscar cursed mentally. Her pale fingers clenched the smartphone in her hand in frustration as the rare emotional response bubbled from the cracks of her normally cool exterior. In the back of her mind, the blonde wished to be on the frontlines with Bone like the old days when her responsibilities had been less reliant on maintaining the idiotic front of the wealthy, intelligent financial genius of the confectionary world. On numerous occasions, she had found the irony of her day job with her side business as humorous until the memory of those she had had to sacrifice reminded her of the seriousness of the path she had chosen to take.

"Oscar!" an unfamiliar shrill, female voice rose up from the kitchen, interrupting the beautiful blonde from her thoughts. "I hope you aren't hiding from the anniversary dinner I've slaved over for hours."

With an amused smirk, Oscar turned back in her fur-lined house slippers. "You're so damn loud, woman," she replied jokingly. "Give me a minute."

"But Oscar…"

"Two minutes won't kill you, Henrietta."

"Fine, two minutes but any longer than that and I'm leaving with that brand new Pagani you've been hiding in the garage. Why haven't you ridden me anywhere in it yet?"

"Because you'd throw up all over the bespoke leather," Oscar said with an obvious eye roll, walking over to the door to close it.

Tapping in a few numbers on the cell phone in her hand, the statuesque woman moved to sit on the soft, white sheets. The receiver of the call picked up within the first three rings.

"This is an unscheduled call."

"Am I interrupting you from a potluck dinner?"

"Hardly," the voice laughed. "A problem you need me to work out?"

"Have you contacted your new friend?"

"Not yet. You did checks on her?"

Oscar nodded. "Not much to check on my end. The feds managed to do a fairly good job with this one but they left the typical signs. She and her little friend are working as my sister's replacement."

"Figured as such," the man's voice sighed. "You want me to take care of it?"

"No, not yet. Play along with her. Don't let her think you know anything when you contact her. When she comes over, begin to tell the truth."

The man sighed heavily. "All of it?"

"No," Oscar said. She played with the long braid of bleached blonde tresses slung over her shoulder. "Just enough to feed the suspicions already in play. The feds are mostly a band of idiots, but I'm sure someone will put two and two together to get four. Maybe one of their local friends will make the connection. Later tonight, I'll send you the script."

"Oscar… You sure about this being the best choice? Your sister is as crazy as a bat on the best of times. Fooling around behind her back again is asking for trouble. The last thing I need to be looking out for is trouble from her. Boston is still touch and go at this point."

"I know," Oscar replied, her tone leaving little room for debate. "You've known me for far too long. When have I never had something not accounted for? Taking the liability out now is the easiest way to avoid damages in the long run."

"All the planning in the world can't factor in destiny."

Oscar laughed. "So said the losers to the winners, Bone. I have no intention to be a loser in anything that I do, especially when it comes to correcting my mistakes," she said passionately. Her cold eyes began to burn in the furnace of scalding emotion normally kept under control. "Don't waste your concern on her. It's about time she return back to her gilded cage anyway. God knows what nuisance she'll get in if I let her spread her wings for too long."

All of a sudden, the husky, female voice from the kitchen rose through the closed bedroom door, "Oscar, you've got two minutes. It's rude to make a lady wait. You know, I'm not a plaything for your amusement."

"Oh, how little you know," Oscar whispered to no one in particular, ignoring her girlfriend's weak threat to return her focus to Bone. "The flavor of the day is whining for my undivided attention."

Bone whistled. "Never thought I'd see the day when a woman or man could get you whipped like a puppy."

"Shut-up," Oscar frowned, wanting nothing more but to end the line of conversation. "I'll call you for an update at the usual time."

"So very whipped," Bone added in an amused tone, just as the connection cut out.


	22. Chapter 22

-/-/-Chapter 22-/-/-

Maura walked into her shared home, eyes closed in an attempt to decrease the pressure in her mind that had been building all day. The main cause of her never-ending migraine refused to let her be despite the late hour, his voice graining on the last vestiges of her remaining patience.

"Dr. Pike," she sighed into the Bluetooth receiver attached to her ear, happily stepping out of her red heels. "I can assure you that my replacement isn't going to subvert your authority. You'll still retain your position at Worcester-"

"And don't you see? That's the problem," Pike interrupted. "There is no need to bring in candidates for a position I have already been groomed for. If it hadn't of been for your feminine wiles, I would have been chief medical examiner-"

With a roll of her eyes, Maura interrupted her colleague before he could get himself worked up again, "Dr. Pike, let's stay on track for once. Either you have a problem with the candidates I've chosen which is something that can be solved, or you want to badmouth me to my face which will result in the immediate termination of this phone call. Pick one or the other. Wisely, I might add."

While the man on the other end tried to gather his words after being shut-down by his boss's rare display of aggression, Maura looked around the house in confusion. The lights were dimmed and, besides for her conversation with Pike, no life stirred in the empty townhouse. Knowing that Jane had the day off, the detective would have done anything to stay in the house with the football game between the Patriots and Eagles coming on at nine.

_Well…that's weird. Wonder where she went. Her squad car is still outside. And where is my tortoise? Bass always greets me at the door…_

But she had little time to contemplate with Pike's incessant moaning and groaning in her ear. He had been going on and on since she left the morgue forty minutes ago. The man just couldn't accept that she didn't think highly enough of his skills to handle the morgue full time during her maternity leave. It just couldn't happen. The risk of coming back to a burned effigy of Pike in the autopsy room surrounded by angry detectives looking to close their cases was far too great.

"Pike," Maura said tiredly. She made her way upstairs with her heels in her hand. "Please…I'll be coming in to the office tomorrow. We can discuss the three candidates then. I've just gotten home and I'd really like to handle some personal things…"

"All I'm asking is that you include me in the process of the interviews. That's all I'm asking, Dr. Isles."

But making the same request for ten hours straight is a little draining, Maura thought miserably.

"We'll see, Dr. Pike. I can't give you an answer I don't have."

"But-"

"Goodnight, Dr. Pike. I hope you have a good evening," Maura took the receiver out of her ear to turn the small device off, "drinking a bottle of champagne with your ego. You know…I'm getting pretty good at this sarcastic thing," she added under her breath, amused at her successful attempt at a joke.

Stretching out her tight limbs from standing all day, Maura made her way into the bedroom with a large yawn and, for what felt like the fiftieth time, immediately felt as if coming into work had been a bad idea. Even at the best of times the practice of doing autopsies, reports, and leading the crime techs was a tough job but being pregnant seemed to make everything that much worse.

After running out on her appointment with Dr. Rose, she had figured dropping in on Pike and the team would be in her best interest. Oh, don't worry, it won't take long. Yet, in typical fashion, all hell decides to break loose just as soon as she got there, forcing her to stay the whole day. Adding in the lovely draining attitude of Dr. Pike and everything just got so much worse.

But at least she didn't have time to feel like a complete jackass. Work kept her mind busy and off the wisdom Dr. Rose had given her earlier. She had completely ignored Jane's needs and desires with the baby and deserved the silent treatment.

With deft hands, Maura began to slip out of the black pantsuit inside her walk-in closet. The full-length mirror reflected her tired but lively image back to her as the blonde began to casually undress in the privacy of her home. Besides her habitual humming of some song that had managed to stick itself in her head, the house was silent in consideration of her need for a moment alone.

As her hands began to unclasp the fuchsia and black balconette bra, her eyes gravitated to the swelling beginning to form around her navel. This was not the first time she had seen the growing evidence of the pregnancy that she waited her entire life for. She made sure to keep a detailed pregnancy journal to monitor for any potential changes. But this time felt different. It felt…real.

"Hormones," Maura stated simply, caressing her stomach with a beaming smile. "I should note this in the journal for a potential need to take in a higher dosage of mineral supplements for the baby's development."

Maura nodded in agreement to her mental note before grabbing a pair of Jane's sweats and a Van Halen t-shirt that the brunette always seemed to leave out despite her constant whining about it. No matter how much she got on her case about it, Jane always returned back to her old ways, throwing things in the general direction of a hanger but never quite on it.

Reluctantly, Maura lowered herself to the floor to pick up the dirty clothes, organizing them by dry cleaning and those meant for the wash. "I swear…"

"Mama…"

Scared at the sudden disembodied voice, Maura jumped back slightly, nearly tripping over her shoes. Her first response was ignorance. I'm tired. It's just my imagination running tricks on me.

"Mama…"

"Jane?" Maura asked, walking out of the closet toward the sound of the voice. "If this is your way of saying sorry, it's completely unnecessary and kind of weird."

"Mama…mama," the mysterious voice called out from outside the bedroom.

What the hell is going on? She might be tired but hearing voices distinctly was completely out of her frame of reference. In all of her years of post-graduate medical research, hormones didn't provoke a mental response such as this to patients without a prior history of mental instability. Maura quickly processed her sketchy familial history to check for any prior conditions in her past that might be linked to this odd behavior but could find nothing.

"Mama Maura…," the disembodied voice continued to call out from downstairs. "Mama…"

Maura ran downstairs to where the sound was coming from. It had to be Bass's bedroom. The door was closed but the blonde quietly moved to open it and confront whoever was pulling this cruel joke on her. It had to be someone she and Jane knew intimately given how similar the voice reminded her of her…

"This really isn't funny," Maura whispered slowly, her hand trembling against the metal knob as it twisted to allow her entrance. "I don't know who's in there but I'm far too tired to play these kinds of games with you."

With a woosh of air, the door opened revealing a darkened room cluttered with several large, cardboard boxes marked CLEMENTINE'S STUFF: DON'T TOUCH, OPEN, OR MOVE UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. The boxes surrounded the entire front area of the room while Bass's various accoutrements such as his playpen, heated sleeping burrow, and hibernation box took up most of the remaining space.

Maura had been meaning to deal with all of this for several weeks now. After Clementine's death, she had been emotionally wrecked and unable to do much more than board the plane to Tahiti with Jane to get away from everything. When she had gotten back, it was still too hard to deal with it completely.

All of her blankets, bottles, and onesies still smelled like the cute, little bundle that Maura had stupidly assumed would be her chance to be a mother. Clementine was their gift. And then she had been taken away. Sometimes it felt like a dream that she had gotten lost in but then the memories she had tried so hard to keep back would come flooding back, washing away the flimsy defenses erected to keep them out.

Dumping the memories in organized boxes, shuffling them to various corners of her life in a cheap effort to ignore the inevitable emotions that came with them had been Maura's plan in dealing with Clementine. Surprisingly, Jane hadn't pushed the issue of healing properly with her cop psychology handbook nonsense, allowing her to grieve and come to terms with it in her own way. But even she was starting to see the limit of her current philosophy.

"Mama Maura…"

Maura sighed before falling weakly against the wall. "Clementine…I'm sorry…that I couldn't save you," she sobbed, resting her head in between her knees.

"Mama!" Clementine's disembodied voice exclaimed in her typical cheerful manner. "Mama Maura!"

"But…I need to move on now," Maura whispered, tears starting to dampen the thick fabric on her knees. "For my new baby. Don't you think it's time you go back home now?"

Clementine made a happy sound of agreement. "Bye-bye, Mama."

Closing her eyes in a silent prayer, Maura released a watery smile. "Goodbye, Clementine."

With a tired sigh, Maura stood up and looked at the cardboard boxes, eyes burning with sudden determination. "It's about time we get rid of this. Stop treating the past like a shrine. Clementine wouldn't want that."

The sound of a high-pitched barking along with the keys turning in the lock took Maura's attention away from the past to the present. Jane was finally home.

"This is the last time I take you anywhere," Jane complained, closing the door behind her with a loud slam after making sure Jo and Bass's stroller were safely out of the way. "There's no reason for a grown woman to have to port around a tortoise in a stroller."

Jo barked in agreement.

"Thank you, even Jo agrees. Finding someone to sit outside with you and Jo while I went in was ridiculous."

With a shake of her head, Jane lifted the tortoise from his seat to place him on the ground. As if they had been separated for years, Jo barked at his friendly companion and hopped onto the hardened mass of shell before Bass began to trudge toward his bedroom down the hall where Maura stood.

Watching the comical pairing of the unlike friendship between the two pets, Jane chuckled. "What an odd couple those two make," she said. The detective smiled at the sight of them enjoying each other's company as she headed into the kitchen. "And you can come out now, Maura. That aqua de jasmine thing you've got on is like a red flag for the nose."

How did she…? Maura shook her head out of the memories of Clementine before stepping out of Bass's bedroom, carefully stepping out of the way of the slow-as-molasses pace of their two pets. Her heart fluttered at the friendly tone of the dark haired detective. It had been awhile since they had been on such well-meaning terms.

"Jane," Maura said. She attempted to hide her shaky voice. "Where did you take Bass and Jo? It's a little late to be taking them out for a walk."

Jane held up the shopping bag in her hand. "Am I not allowed to have a craving?"

"Depends on the craving."

"Is Dunkin Donuts and mocha mint okay?"

Walking over to meet her girlfriend next to the kitchen island, Maura laughed. "As long as the mocha mint is for me, your craving earns a passing grade."

Silence covered the small space as Jane narrowed her eyes at the plainly earnest blonde trying desperately to rebuild the bridges between them. The argument from two weeks ago was still up in the air, and before she had left this morning, Jane was still on the silent treatment boat. Maura didn't want to sound needy but it was time for this nonsense to end. There were bigger things to worry about than Angela knowing about their pregnancy.

"Jane…listen, I just want to say-"

"No, let me say it-"

"I'm sorry," Maura and Jane managed to blurt out at the same time, each looking as if they had unburdened themselves from the unseen heavy load being held over their shoulders.

Embarrassed, Jane ran her hand through her tangled hair. "God…look at us. We're babbling over each other like a bunch of girls at their first sleepover."

Maura blushed. Hiding her response from her observant girlfriend, she grabbed the half-empty bag, taking out the ice cream and box of donuts to put them away.

"So we're both sorry."

"That's the gist."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Maura shrugged. "Yes…but I don't want to ruin a good thing by bringing up things you aren't comfortable discussing."

"No, you deserve an explanation for my…behavior." Jane lowered her head in thought. "I guess…I'm scared."

"Scared? Scared of what? Of being a mother?"

"No," Jane said slowly as if her mind was struggling with the words. "I just…don't want to give up my identity in order to become a mother, Maura. Don't you see? I can't be a detective and a mom. I can't just put my life on the line everyday knowing I could die and leave you and our child alone. I just can't do it. And not being able to do the only thing I've always wanted to do, the thing that makes me who I am…I don't know if I can give it up for a child."

"Jane…"

"And I know that makes me sound like a complete asshole but it's what I feel. I can't just not feel what I feel," Jane said ardently.

A heavy silence descended upon the room as they processed Jane's confession. As glad as Maura was to finally have a link to the inner workings of her lover, she was completely clueless as to how to handle the brunette's clear emotional turmoil.

Maura set the bag of snacks down on the counter. With a comforting smile, she took Jane in a hug, warding the negative thoughts away from Jane's mind.

"Jane, I'm not going to lie to you and say I understand where you're coming from. But," Maura rose on her tiptoes to reach Jane's ear, "your identity doesn't come from being a detective. You're a detective, not the other way around. I will never forget that you're still the same protective, strong, brave, and loving woman I fell in love with, no matter if you're a detective or a zookeeper. Nothing will ever change that."

Jane clutched onto Maura's smaller frame. "I love you so much…even when I don't make any sense you just get it," she whispered. "Why do you even put up me?"

"I ask myself all the time and I always come up with the same thing." Maura kissed the crook of Jane's smooth neck with a smile. "I love you."

"God, you're such a bleeding heart."

Maura made a sound of disbelief. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. It's just one of the reasons why you're going to be great mom," Jane said, lowering a hand between them to caress the slight swelling of Maura's stomach.

"No, _we're_ both going to be great moms," Maura corrected with a lazy smile.

"Every time you say it, it sounds more real, like I could really do this."

"Because you can, honey. You're just too skull headed to accept the obvious."

Narrowing her eyes slightly, Jane sighed. "It's boneheaded, not skull headed."

Maura pulled back from Jane's warm caress. "Whatever. Same concept. But, since we're talking again, do you think you can help me with something?"

"Can I eat my Boston Kremes first?"

Maura frowned. "Each donut you eat will make you fall that much closer to sleep. I need you awake for this."

"Ooh…it has been awhile since we played in the corral," Jane replied flirtatiously.

With a playful slap, Maura shook her head in amusement. "You're such a dirty, horny little lezzie. Not _that_, at least, not now. I want you to help me move Clementine's old stuff to the guesthouse."

In confusion, Jane narrowed her eyes. "And where'd this sudden proactive behavior come from?"

As much as Maura wanted to tell Jane the whole story regarding the hallucination upstairs, she had a feeling it would sound slightly crazy in an abbreviated version. There would be time to do that later.

"I've just…had a sudden change of heart." Maura started to walk towards the door leading to the guesthouse, completely oblivious to the large, red toolbox hidden in the darkness below the sketch of Maura's biological mother grieving at her "dead" daughter. As the doorknob got closer, a hot, burning pain rose up from her bare toe, ending all of her forward movement.

"Owww!" Maura exclaimed, jumping on one foot to rub the swollen appendage. "Jane! What did I tell you about leaving the toolbox out? I think I might have a non-displaced toe fracture."

"Oh shit," Jane cursed, running over to help her injured girlfriend. "Come over here to the couch. I'll look at it."

"Jane…," Maura cried out.

"Fine, you'll look at it, and I'll follow your instructions." They hobbled over to the couch where Maura plopped down, allowing Jane to grab the emergency medical kit from the kitchen counter. "Does it hurt?"

Maura gave the brunette a disbelieving look. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Sarcasm and pain go hand and hand," Jane whispered cleverly.

"Stop making witty remarks when I'm in pain. This is all your fault. Your decision to leave a sixty-pound toolbox in the middle of the walkway was clearly the wrong choice," Maura commanded before releasing a shocked gasp of surprise. "Oh my god, that was so rude of me. Could you please come and help me out, Jeddy?"

Jane smiled. "Of course, my love," she cooed.

-/-/-/-/-/-

Contrary to Maura's loud and endless whining, she had not fractured her toe. If anything, the woman had fractured her pride which, from Jane's own personal experience, sucked something fierce and would take a couple of days to heal. Knowing how optimistic the woman was about life in general, she knew it probably wouldn't even take that long before Maura would be jumping ecstatically to tell her about the differences between heritability and heritability in the narrow sense.

And won't that be just great? Jane thought sarcastically.

As the two women sat together in their bedroom, enjoying each other's company, Maura laid on the pillows with her eyes closed while Jane kept rubbing special soothing cream on the afflicted toe. Besides the occasional hum of satisfaction coming from the prone woman, the room was blissfully quiet.

"Jane?" Maura asked lazily, unexpectedly ruining the silence.

Looking up from her relaxing task, Jane raised an eyebrow. "One foot only policy. Don't give me googly eyes and force me to do the other foot."

With a smile, Maura reached out to play with several errant loose curls. "You should be lucky you're even _allowed_ to touch my feet. Even my first didn't get to touch my feet."

"Wow, you're telling me that Peter 'My-Last-Name-Is-Vanderbilt' Prep didn't get a home run?"

"Oh, he got a home run, Jane. He just never got permission to mess with anything below the knee." From her half closed eyes, Maura chuckled in amusement. "It's a long story. But I wanted to ask you if you're going to be free sometime next week?"

"For more massage time?"

Maura rolled her eyes. "The first ultrasound."

"Is something wrong with the baby?" Jane asked worriedly.

"No," Maura frowned. "Dr. Rose just wants to do an ultrasound to make sure everything is looking good for the baby's development. And, since the first trimester has passed, I kind of want to know the sex…if that's alright with you? Because if you'd like to wait-"

Jane shook her head. "No, I want to know the sex. It's fine. I'll be sure to make myself free for the ultrasound. And you know what?"

"What?"

"I was thinking it would be best to get your mother and my mother together to tell them about the baby. And, this time, it'll be the full story. Is that alright with you?"

Maura and Jane silently turned their gaze to each other as they spoke to each other in the unique way only long-term couples can share.

_You've changed your song._

_It's time I accept that we're going to be moms._

_Are you ready to accept?_

_No…but the baby needs me to step up to the plate. It's about time I act like an adult with this._

With a smile, Maura pushed herself up from the bed. "Sometimes…sometimes you shock me," she whispered, holding the sculpted face in her hands as she inched ever so closer to the detective's blushed lips.

"I hope that's a good thing," Jane whispered back, her breath playing in the honey, blonde strands coming out of the loose braid on her head.

"Always," Maura smiled.

Just at their lips finally reconnected after a long absence apart, the sound of Jane's vibrating phone on the dresser interrupted the two lovers. Jane separated from Maura with a heavy sigh.

"I gotta get this," Jane said. She leaned over to grab the dancing phone with her clean hand. "It's Dean's ringtone. Must be an emergency."

Maura nodded, watching her girlfriend shift into work mode before answering the phone.

"Rizzoli… What? What do you mean he's contacted her...? Is this confirmed...? Where are you…? Yeah, pick me up in five. And no one moves on this until I get there… Because I'm the _field operations leader_, that's why."

"So you going to defend Boston single-handedly again?" Maura asked after Jane hung up with Dean.

"Yep," Jane said reluctantly. She wanted to laugh as her girlfriend's face reminded her of a sad puppy left out in the rain. "I'd stay if I could, but Riley got a call from Bone to meet her at his condo, tonight."

Maura gave the despondent brunette a brief kiss on both cheeks. "Go on, Detective. Be the big, badass Detective Rizzoli that I fell in love with. The baby and I will be here when you back, probably taking a snooze break. We can play in the corral when you get home."

Jane perked up. "Really?"

"Mmm-hmm. I know how crazy you get when sex is taken off the menu for an extended period of time."

With a smile, Jane got up from the bed to get dressed in comfortable sweats in preparation for a long night spent next to Frost and, her least favorite man at the moment, Agent Dean. But at least she had something to keep her mind focused. Just six more hours until she would be back in bed with the woman she loved, Jane thought optimistically.


	23. Chapter 23

-/-/-Chapter 23-/-/-

On the other side of town, Frost watched Dean tell the driver to head to Jane's house quickly from his usual seat in front of the computers with the techies. The night sky was just as dark as the black van cutting through the dwindling traffic of Boston streets, leaving little for the bored detective to look at.

With all of the potential chaos that could develop tonight with Bone's sudden inclination to contact Riley, Frost had to admit that the twenty minutes of boredom could be beneficial. Maybe he could get a couple of minutes of sleep in before his focus had to turn to watching a computer screen for hours on end, listening to Dean try to throw curveballs at Jane's current relationship status. As humorous as it was watching the agent pout like a small girl, Frost found the entire experience to be a little immature on both sides.

So what she's sleeping with Maura? It's not like Dean had been that close to Jane. Or...

Frost looked up at Dean. Maybe they had done something? In his opinion, Dean never seemed like his partner's type, not to mention that she would have told him about it given their close friendship that had developed after confessing her relationship with Maura nearly three years ago.

He knew it wasn't his place to contemplate Jane's personal affairs. If she slept with Dean at one point in the past then it was her private affair. But they had to work with each other on this undercover gig for what looked like an extensive period. Could she, and more importantly Dean, handle this?

They have to make it work, Frost thought. He tapped his feet against the metal floor, closing his eyes to take a slight nap.

"Frost, may I ask you a personal question?"

With a muffled sigh, Frost opened his eyes to see Dean in his usual seat, facing him in the swivel seat. His reply was nothing more than a simple shrug of approval.

"How long have they been together?"

Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, Frost frowned slightly. "Care to expand on that thought?"

"Jane and Maura."

Unsure of how he should respond to Dean's curiosity concerning Jane, Frost took his time coming up with an answer. He understood both sides of the argument. Dean was just trying to come to terms with the obvious shock to his man-pride by learning all he could to assist in the process step of acceptance. But his partner had every right to her privacy and the law of partnership always came first over the brotherhood that came with identifying as a man. Frost had to live and work with Jane. Dean was just in the picture for the operation to take down Cisco. One was clearly more important than the other.

"That's not really my business to share," Frost said tactfully. He stretched his muscles in his back in an attempt to get comfortable. "If you'd stop biting Jane's head off, maybe she'd tell you herself."

Dean turned back to the driver just as the van stopped next to the curb of the Isles-Rizzoli townhouse. Thanking the heavens for the distraction, Frost sat upright in his chair to look out the small window facing the well-lit front entrance of the house.

After a brief moment of silence, the driver announced, "Detective Rizzoli is coming out from the house."

Exiting from the house in her coat and sweatpants, Jane made a visible shuddering motion in the cold before extending her legs in her characteristic long stride. Her face was hardened in expectation of dealing with another night of being back on undercover duty. As she made her way to the van, Maura ran out – wearing a Tiffany blue robe and matching slippers – carrying a travel mug and a pair of mittens for the brunette.

Oh, that's so sweet, Frost mused.

Whatever the two were having a brief discussion about was clearly entertaining, his partner's bright smile and slight blush coloring her olive complexion. Seeing his partner and her girlfriend so happy together brought a smile to his own face. Frost turned away from the mirror to give the two women some kind of privacy, noticing Dean's unwavering focus on the two from his window looking out at the couple.

"Those are cute," Dean whispered, making a sly comment concerning the patterned mittens that Jane carried with her to the van. "Scalpels and handcuffs are an unusual pattern. Must be a customized gift."

Frost rolled his eyes. "Jealousy isn't very becoming, Dean."

Before he could gather a reply, Jane knocked twice before the driver unlocked the door for her. The small space filled with the smell of coffee as she got settled in her usual position next to Frost, offering her friend a cup of the sweet caffeinated drink.

"Thanks," Frost said. He took the travel mug to pour him a cup. "Dean wanted to ask you a question."

Jane raised an eyebrow at the agent's motionless back. "What?" she asked acidly, wanting to get started working a plan out for the meet with Riley and her brother.

"Nothing, it's nothing." Dean tapped the driver on the shoulder before turning back to the detectives. "We need to get on the same page about Frankie and Riley."

"What I've been waiting for."

"According to Korsak's intel, Bone called Frankie to ask whether Riley was free for one-on-one time at his condo in an hour. Once they're on the move, Korsak will turn on his tracker for us to get a signal to follow him discreetly to the location."

Jane nodded. "You've given them tech?"

"There's little need for that, not to mention it increases risk."

"Really?" Jane asked incredulously. "So you think sending in two UCs with no way to get back up or tech assistance is safer than using our assets to help them in the field?" She snorted. "That's fucked up and you know it."

Dean frowned. "Lea has given us intel that Bone doesn't have firearms in his home. Based off of what we know, there is little reason to expect problems that would warrant unnecessary tech at this stage," he said. "Bringing in the cavalry for an uprising is hardly a necessary response."

Giving the agent a comical look of confusion, Jane threw her mug over to Frost. "What the _hell_ does that mean? Are we gonna ride in on thoroughbreds and quarter horses if the shit hits the fan?" she added, venom dripping from her words.

"Jane…"

"Don't you dare use that tone with me, Dean. I don't know if you've forgotten, but my brother is in there; my fellow detective is in there. I'm not about to risk their lives just because Lea is the prodigal child, unable to do any wrong."

Dean glared at the mention of Lea's name. "That's completely unnecessary. Every operation has risks, you know that. Your brother and Riley both knew what those risks were before _you_ threw their name into the ring. Now isn't the time to pull out the family card because of paranoia."

"I'm not paranoid. I just don't think it's wise to take the word of one woman who's intel has already been proven shoddy at best as the law of the land. Ever since she got off this op, your little bestie's 'intel' has been completely unhelpful," Jane argued passionately. "Dean, listen to me. If you really want to gamble everything away just because Lea's faulty intelligence says so then we might as well pack up now."

As the two combatted back and forth with each other – one using logic, the other experience –, Frost observed, unsure of how to separate them. This fighting was doing nothing more than wasting energy on nothing at all.

"You know what?" Dean asked, leaning toward Jane in an aggressive stance. "Instead of attacking my agent's credibility, why don't you focus on trusting your fellow officers? Riley can handle this. You said so yourself."

Jane's dropped her job in shock. Damn it…she _had_ gone to bat for her. But still… Jane knew the risks involved, but it was a lot easier to accept the risk of going in blind when it was her doing the risk-taking. Her brother was a newbie to all of this and Riley was new to the squad. If she wanted to be honest, both were relatively unknown in how they would respond to pressure.

Dean sighed, returning his mask of emotionlessness to his face. "Eric has already approved going through with this from a legal standpoint. As long as we don't take out or leave anything in his condo, then we're fine. And we're just doing some basic recon at this point. If Riley doesn't go, Bone will get suspicious. Jane…we have to do this."

"And we still have those earrings from the club. They probably have some juice still in them," Frost interjected, alleviating the tension in the van. "If Riley's wearing them, we can have audio, at the very least." He turned to Dean. "If the feds have been investigating this guy for so long, why don't you have bugs already set up in the house?"

Dean shook his head. "Bone has some kind of electronic jammer device on his property. Any bugs we drop in for an extensive period last three days before they fritz out and become pretty much useless."

"And your top of the line fed techies can't figure out a frequency to keep them working?"

"The only way to develop tech against this is to find out what exactly we're working with and Lea's inability to get close to him prevented her from finding out where the jammer was. All we know is that whoever made these things is running beyond our capabilities. You got to remember, we're running on the government's payroll. Cisco has dispensable income to spend on crazy tech like this. According to my team, the jammer he's using is like next-next gen level, at a minimum."

Hearing none of this technological mumbo-jumbo, Jane was lost in thought. Why would Eric agree to this kind of cowboy mission? At the very least, he would have asked for her input before agreeing to go forward with this. Granted, it was a quickly put together plan but that didn't excuse Eric's actions.

Ever since they had been wrangled into this joint operation with the feds, Eric had been…different. He had always been so tactical and manipulative. Eric had always been the kind of guy that thought a great date was playing a three-thousand piece puzzle and munching on some Sargento. Jane had fallen in love with those qualities over ten years ago.

Those ten plus years couldn't have changed him that much? And, hell, they had just worked together for that trial nonsense with the Tomlinson family. He was normal back then. What was making him act so out of character? Jane was completely confused by Eric's impulsive behavior. She made a mental note to talk with Maura about it whenever they both had some free time.

Suddenly, a loud binging sound rang out at the monitors before bringing an image of a map of Boston streets. All three of them turned their heads to figure out what the noise meant.

"Hedgehog just activated his signal," the driver called out, making a skilled three-point turn to head back the other way down the street to follow the GPS signal being received. Jane couldn't stop smiling at Korsak's codename. "They're on the move. We'll intercept in fifteen minutes."

Dean swiveled back to the front. "Keep a low visual on them. Don't want to draw unnecessary attention to them or us by breathing down their bumper."

"Hey," Frost whispered to his stunned partner, "don't worry. Riley's smart. A little bit manipulative but…smart. She'll keep a watch on Frankie, keep him safe and sound."

Nervously, Jane took a sip from her mug. "I just wish I was out there."

"Why?"

"I'd rather put my life on the line instead of watching people I care about doing it for me."

She frowned, trying desperately to return back to the matter at hand. Eric's oddities could wait. Her team needed her to stay focused for their safety. This was the first big test of whether they could get the job done despite her mangled team put together at the last minute.

We can do this…I know we can. Finally, the detective felt herself creeping one step closer to getting Cisco off the streets.

-/-/-/-/-/-

"Jane…you know this would be a lot easier if you'd back up just a tad," Frost said. He looked over his shoulder at the nosy brunette staring at him and the techies working desperately to get a clear visual feed of Riley and Frankie inside Bone's high-rise in the swanky complex.

Sipping her coffee, Jane relaxed enough to give her partner some space. "C'mon Frost, you need to work faster. They've been up there for an hour."

"Korsak says their doing fine."

"He's not even in the apartment with them. Korsak is just as much in the dark as we are."

"We've still got the earrings giving us an audio feed."

"Yeah…," Jane muttered reluctantly. "That's something I guess."

If she could have it her way, she wouldn't have sent Riley and Frankie in an international drug smuggler's house with nothing more than a broke pair of hidden transmitters disguised as earrings and no prior planning beforehand. This whole thing seemed hinky, made even hinkier by Dean's apparent inability to think critically about his intel and Eric's sudden impulsiveness. Jane still had no reason as to why everyone seemed to be willing to risk everything for one, singular opportunity, but her main focus had to be using what she had available – which wasn't much – to keep her team safe and sound.

Since following Korsak to the location, nothing had come over the audio frequency except the occasional burst of dialogue followed swiftly by static. The techies had used their magic to figure out that the jammer equipment was making things difficult on the equipment in the earrings, causing the signal to go in and out. Dean had assured her that they could keep the signal up for two more hours at the most; however, he didn't seem too confident about that assessment.

From the bits and pieces of dialogue she could put together, Jane knew that Riley was being given an extensive tour of Bone's condo. The place must be like Disneyland since it had taken nearly an hour for him to fully show every public detail of the place. She could also venture that the conversation was starting to take a turn toward business which caused her heart to beat even faster.

We need to have a clear signal, now more than ever. If things went bad, they would be completely clueless to provide backup, leaving Bone with ample time to get rid of the bodies and jump on a jet to Lichtenstein, avoiding extradition. More importantly, she would have lost her chance to get Bone after her last screw-up as a rookie. In the back of her mind, her cop gut told her that Riley would be able to defend herself from too much harm but what about Frankie? Frankie's crash course in undercover work would only get him so far in a situation that depended on experience.

Damn it…why'd I even think this would be a good idea?

Instinctually, Jane brought the coffee mug to her lips, receiving cold, overly sweet remnants of cocoa and espresso. God, what a great time to run out of caffeine, Jane mused.

"Here," Dean said. He offered his jumbo mug of coffee in a mug designed with the FBI logo. "I've still got some fuel left. If you need it."

With a smile, Jane took the mug. "Thanks," she said after sniffing the coffee. "This isn't some kind of crazy concoction that feds make to stay awake, I hope?"

"I did add a little absinthe for good measure."

"You're kidding."

Dean winked. "Of course," he deadpanned. The agent returned his attention back to the fuzzy audio signal coming from the speakers. "Frost, you've got the signal worked out?"

"The best I can with what I've got. We've finally found an open signal to work with that's not being jammed but who knows how long it'll stay open," Frost explained, his hands playing against the keys of the keyboard in a feverish dance of clicking and clacking. "I think…" He typed several complex computer commands and codes in fast repetition. "Gotcha! I knew he wouldn't be smart enough to close that avenue."

Unexpectedly, a static visual feed displayed on the large computer screens, filling the small interior of the van with muted light. Jane jumped up from her seat in surprise while Dean released a rare beaming grin.

Frost moved the screen out for Jane and Dean to see the images coming in from the interior of Bone's condo. "We worked out a couple of tweaks to the signal to bring the visual and audio back up as a cohesive unit. The battery probably has 40 minutes of life left in it, but we should be able to squeeze some more life out of it."

"Do they know where the signal is being received yet?" Dean asked as his face returned back to his normal saddened demeanor.

Frost shook his head. "Everything is encrypted on both sides. Without knowing the capabilities of his jammer software, I can't say anything for certain but it's highly unlikely."

As the two men babbled continuously about technological aspects that held little appeal to the impatient detective, Jane focused on the screen. From Riley's eyes, she could see a glimpse of Bone's inner sanctum for the first time since starting the operation over three months ago.

The naturalness of the entire setting surprised the detective. Little clutter filled the space yet there was a maze-like feel to Bone's condo that seemed to serve the purpose of disorienting a visitor, preventing them from making an escape if needed. On the opposite side, close by Riley's side, she could see Frankie keeping a respectful but watchful look over his partner just like she had taught him in his crash course. As Bone finished up the tour, leading them to an open area that was presumably the living room, Jane could see the slight eye movements from Frankie as he carefully appraised his surroundings for any risks or exits if needed.

That's it, Frankie. Keep a close eye on your partner and she'll return the favor. You're doing a great job, Jane encouraged silently, knowing her little brother had no way of hearing her. Watching her brother keep his wits about him while undercover gave the anxious brunette a slight feeling of hope that this phase of the operation would proceed smoothly.

Suddenly, Jane flinched at the feel of Dean's warm hand on her tensed shoulder. She frowned at him, causing him to quickly take his hand away in embarrassment.

"What the hell, Dean?" Jane growled suspiciously. "Didn't they teach you in kindergarten to keep your hands to yourself?"

"You looked worried." Dean took a sip of his engine oil like coffee, wincing at the disgusting taste. "The last thing you need is to be looking over every nook and cranny for fear. It'll make you crazy. Just relax and wait things out. That's all we can do for them now. Trust and wait."

Jane smirked, running her hand through her hair. "When's the last time you saw me sit and wait willingly, Dean?"

"Undercover is all about waiting. You know that better than I do," Dean said. His words reminded Jane of her past in the Drug Unit. "With Lea's prior work on the case, I highly doubt anything untoward is going to happen. Bone just wants to talk things out and establish a bond with his new plaything. He did the same thing with Lea."

Jane turned toward the agent with a look of utter bewilderment. Ever since he'd decided to grace his presence back in her life, every word out of Dean's mouth had been about the female agent under his command, Lea Something-or-Other. When she had met the woman during the debriefing several months ago, Jane hadn't felt anything that fantastic about the young woman unless a ridiculous level of iciness was a quality cherished in the federal workplace.

Lea, Lea, Lea…something just didn't seem right about that one. Jane couldn't put her finger on it but the girl wasn't the idol of intelligence gathering that Dean saw her as. Most of the intel she had given them since Jane and her team had started had been flimsy at best. She was beyond tired of following the woman's advice, but Dean kept sticking up for the blonde agent as if the idea of Lea being wrong was tantamount to suicide.

I don't get it, Jane contemplated. What was the big deal with Lea? And why did she hold such influence over Dean? Did she save his life from a serial killer or something?

But those were thoughts for a later time. Nothing mattered except getting Riley and Frankie back out of the lion's den. As long as Lea's faulty info didn't result in a situation that increased the risks upon her team, Jane could care less what the woman was hiding under that veneer of aloofness.

"Frost, is the signal holding steady?"

Still tapping at the keys, Frost made a small sound of acknowledgement. "It's hell trying to keep it open but me and the techies will try to keep it clear of interference for as long as possible."

Jane nodded before settling back in her seat. Now came the watching and waiting as the two undercover cops began to get down to business with Bone.

-/-/-/-/-/-

"I see you've decided to follow my advice, Carmen."

With a playful smile, Carmen gave Bone a raised eyebrow. "About what?"

Before he could respond, an unobtrusive butler wearing a plain, black suit made his way to the three of them with a bottle of Dom Perignon and three flutes in hand. While the gentleman poured the bubbly stream of liquid gold, Carmen eyed the butler's gun hidden underneath the many layers of expensive fabric. It was impossible to tell what the make or model was but that was beside the point. Just one gun put her and Frankie at an incredible disadvantage. And, in her experience, with one gun came several others.

As the man finished placing the flutes of champagne before the guests, Carmen tried to give the butler a friendly smile. Instead of returning it, however, his eyes darkened slightly, mouth twitching with a fleeting moment of emotion.

Bone took a flute into his hands, downing the entire glass in one gulp. "You may think of this as a simple business transaction, but I appreciate my women. Each of them are special in their own way, treated with the utmost respect. But respect is a two way street, Carmen. Going around with other men and women…," he gave the flute a hard stare before setting it gently back on the table, "breaks that respect."

David leaned forward. "So she's up to your standard?"

"Not so fast," Bone commanded, appraising the woman sitting next to him like a piece of jewelry. "I'd like to speak to Carmen on my own."

"We don't split up. Carmen is under my protection. My boss would kill me if I left her unattended."

"She'll hardly be 'unattended'. You asked to see the pool on the roof earlier. This is your opportunity to go without listening to my droning commentary," Bone said, smiling mysteriously. He whisked his long, black braid of thick hair off of his shoulder. And, as if a signal had been given, another nameless drone of protection wearing a tailored suit complete with a gun hidden from plain sight came out of the shadows of the darkened interior. "Rat will show you there."

"Rat?" David asked incredulously, turning to give Carmen an amused look. "C'mon…you have _got_ to be kidding me. What's with the names around here? Bone, Rat…is the doorman named Brick?"

"Was…was that supposed to be a joke, David? Because no one's laughing."

"I thought it was kind of funny."

Carmen coughed, putting her hand on David's corduroy covered knee. "David, stop being a smartass and go look at the pool. We've talked business. Can't I have a little fun with my new 'love' interest?"

God, I hope he won't push the issue. She might have said all of that for Bone's interest but she had really meant, "Frankie, those guys have guns, and I wouldn't be surprised if our new friend has one too. I know you were told to stick with me like glue, but I need you to let me handle this alone." The last thing she wanted was the kid to get hurt doing something stupid under the guise of heroism. There were some places where Frankie wouldn't be allowed to go and this was one of them.

You've got to trust that I'll be alright on my own. This won't work otherwise.

Reluctantly, David sighed, seemingly getting the subtle message. "Fine," he muttered, standing up and nearly bumping into the silent drone waiting to escort him to the pool on the roof. "Just don't let him touch the merchandise until the ink has dried, Carmen. I know how eager you can get when you've been without for a while."

David left, leaving Carmen alone with the scary yet charismatic handsome man before her. Despite the ease with which he would have been able to take advantage of her, Bone retained his distance from the undercover detective. His attention seemed to be more focused on the starry night sky as a flurry of snow colored the view with angry, white brushstrokes.

"Sorry about that," Carmen started apologetically. "We've been doing this job together for years. He feels like I'm his little sister sometimes."

"It's alright," Bone said. He reached into his pocket with a subtle motion. "We all have someone like that in our lives."

-/-/-/-/-/-

Back in the covert van, Jane and Dean continued to keep their close watch on the visual feed coming in from the condo where Riley and Frankie were with Bone. As soon as Frankie left, the detective immediately sensed trouble ahead. She had specifically told Frankie to stick with the older detective at all times for both of their safety but now they were separated, creating an obvious opportunity for Bone.

But that was just the tip of the iceberg.

In a single moment, the signal for both the audio and visual feeds coming in from the bugged earrings was lost, leaving the entire van in an utter state of darkness. The only light available came from the rapidly shifting screens of computer gibberish as the techs, including Frost, struggled to bring something, anything back online for the team.

"Damn it," Frost cursed. "Nothing responding on either ends. Our signals must be fried."

Jane gave her partner a blank look. "So what does that mean? Can't you get them back online with magic or technological fairy dust?"

"We're trying, Jane. But the problem is that we're working through backdoors in order to stay hidden from Cisco's traps. Any more aggressive and he'll know we're messing around on his server."

"But what made them go black?"

"Bone must have had a remote to the jammer on him. Any electronic signal not registered under the program within a five to ten foot radius would have been burned." Frost put on a pair of headphones to correspond with the other rapidly working techies on their own computers. "One burst probably did it. It wasn't that strong but we weren't expecting technological warfare so we didn't come prepared with defenses of our own."

Jane glared at Dean, silently blaming him for this whole mess. "Well…can't we just find another opening to bring that feed back up? We need to know what's going on in there."

"You're asking me to look for a needle in a haystack while I'm running from his security measures. I'll do my best, but I've got other priorities at the moment. Our signal is being bounced all over various ports in the network like we're being teleported. We can't get close enough to even attempt to get back the signal feed unless you want to play hard ball. But if we get caught playing around in here, we'll have a rescue mission on our hands."

Jane tapped her feet anxiously. There was only one choice to make.

"Play it safe for now. There's no need to show our hand. We'll just have to trust Frankie and Riley on this without our backup."

Damn it, damn it, damn it! This was exactly what she didn't want to happen. All thanks to Dean and his blind faith in a woman who kept proving she had little reason to be trusted. First, the faulty info. Okay, that's excusable. Intel changes from second to second. Second, Bone's help had all been carrying firearms even though Lea had said there were _no firearms_. That wasn't as excusable, but her team could figure this out. But now, Jane was sitting blind as her brother and Riley had to be undercover with no potential backup or – given their separation – each other.

Three strikes and you're out, Lea. One more and I'll personally come to Washington to kick your ass for putting my team and family in even more danger than they are already in.

Dean coughed awkwardly, struggling to speak as the fury of the brunette swirled throughout the car in near-visible waves. "Jane…I know what you're thinking, but Lea isn't at fault for this-"

"Dean. Stop. Talking. Before I turn you into a eunuch," Jane threatened, eyes heated in utter fury. "Just help us figure something out to bring the signal back online. Your little girlfriend is on thin ice as is. The last thing I want to do is hear her name."

"She's not my girlfriend…," Dean blushed, his body response giving away his secret.

Jane was completely oblivious to the agent's response, her focus exclusively on Frost work the computer. "Help out, Dean!"


	24. Chapter 24

-/-/-Chapter 24-/-/-

Jane paced back and forth behind the huddled mass of furiously working techies as they tried everything within reason to get the dead signal back online. Frost, completely focused on the computer lingo being thrown from all around him, noticed his partner's emotional state but could provide little assistance. Dean, on the other hand, sitting patiently in his seat near the front, watched the wild-eyed detective with his usual aloof expression, hardly bothered by the situation.

With the force of a god, Jane released a predatory growl of frustration, turning back to Dean. "It's been thirty minutes, Dean."

"Well, it's good that you haven't lost the ability to lose time with all that pacing back and forth like a caged lion," Dean said sarcastically.

"And it is good that you haven't developed maturity since the last time we talked," Jane bantered back, potent venom dripping from each word she stabbed into her unsuspecting victim of her vitriol. "Fuck trying to get this damn thing back up. We need to go in there."

"Absolutely not, Detective."

"I'm the leader of my team," Jane argued. "And _my_ team is out there risking their lives."

"And your connection to them is why you're obviously having troubles with keeping perspective. They're smart. They'll get through this."

Jane, clearly having none of his encouraging words, rolled her eyes. "You of all people are really going to talk to me about perspective? This coming from the man who gushes about Lea to the point where he forgets to double check her intel?"

"I know you're worried but taking it out on me isn't going to make you feel better," Dean said simply. He turned back to the techies to gauge their progress.

"We need to get proactive."

"And you _need_ to relax and let them work. Stop trying to be Wonder Woman all the time. How would you feel if you were in there and Frankie told me to be proactive and come to your rescue?"

Jane shrugged. "Flattered."

"No," Dean smiled. "You'd be pissed."

As much as Jane wanted nothing more than to continue bickering with the agent, she knew he had a point. The last thing you wanted while working undercover was a fellow officer coming in, potentially ruining everything took months to establish in just a couple of seconds.

But even reason and logic wasn't enough to damper the desire to help Frankie and Riley out of this cluster. Dean was basically asking her to turn off a piece of her soul, her personality by telling her to not be protective. Ever since she had seen Frankie at the hospital when he was born, Jane had acknowledged her role as protector over her family. Becoming a cop was just a natural extension of her natural desire to protect those closest to her.

First, her family was her primary interest. Then she included her fellow brothers in blue and the citizens that trusted her to protect them from the colorful refuse of the evil that populated Boston's streets. And now, Maura and the baby were included into the mix, Jane realized suddenly. No matter how complicated her life got, her main focus would always be on protecting those close to her. Leaving Riley and Frankie alone with an international drug lord who could kill them and escape with little effort worried the detective more than she cared to admit.

Shaking her head away from her worrying thoughts, Jane stopped pacing to check out what Frost had accomplished. Given the excited mumblings coming from the techies' computers, something had finally panned out in their favor.

"You got the signal back up?"

Frost nodded. "We're nearly there. The interference suddenly subsided. Just give me a sec'…"

And with several more keystrokes, the clear image of Bone's now empty living room greeted the team. Based off of the odd angle focusing on the ceiling, the earrings had been taken off at some point during Riley's conversation with Bone and had never been put back on. Despite the unusualness of Riley's behavior to leave the earrings behind, Jane studied the image for any sign of disarray that would point towards a struggle of some kind but there was nothing.

Jane could feel her heartbeat ratchet up into a galloping pace. Where is she? Where's Frankie? Are they hurt? Or…is it something more serious?

"Dean," Jane started slowly, struggling to form the syllables with her tongue numbed by intense worry, "they aren't on the feed."

"I know."

"So call your elite federal SWAT team in to get them out of there."

"Jane…this is an undercover operation. No one in Quantico knows about this besides my boss and he isn't going to sanction sending an entire squad in with top-level equipment over two UCs from the Boston Police Department."

"Then come up with something that you _can_ do!" Jane screamed passionately. "You can't just…leave them in there to be maimed or killed because _you_ fucked up."

But before their argument could resume, the untraceable phone line in the van rang. Jane quickly pushed the button to receive the call, hoping with every ounce of her being that it wasn't a ransom call.

"Jane? It's Korsak," Korsak said. The slight sounds of Boston traffic were heard in the background along with the usual back and forth bickering of the undercover cops. "Is something up on your end? I picked up the two birdies from Bone's house like ten minutes ago and you didn't follow me out."

Jane released a sigh of relief. "Our signal was on the fritz. We were trying to get it back online. Are they alright?"

"Arguing back and forth about something Bone said in there, as usual," Korsak said. He lowered his voice to allow their voices to echo through the receiver. "You want to talk to them?"

"We need to have a meet."

"Using the schedule?"

"No," Jane replied. "I don't want the chance to be interrupted by meeting at a public place again, not to mention a group of people meeting at three in the morning is going to raise some red flags. We'll go for Franklin Park."

"The rugby fields?"

Jane nodded. "In the stands, thirty minutes. Don't be late."

Korsak made a small sound of agreement before cutting the call short. Jane sighed in exhaustion as the tension that had built up over the last hour or so subsided. Jesus H. Christ, I think I'm getting too old for all of this adrenaline, Jane mused.

With a smile, Frost swiveled his chair around to offer the brunette some coffee from his personal stash. "You look like you need it."

"I need to be home with my wife," Jane replied, refusing the proffered caffeine. "Anymore coffee and I might just have to give the stuff up permanently."

"What kind of cop would that make you?"

Jane shrugged. "One that sticks around to watch my kid get married. You know how unhealthy that black motor oil the feds call coffee is? I might as well start doing crack. At least then I'd be getting a better energy kick and die just as fast."

"Wow, thank you for the advice, Angela."

Jane gave her partner a playful slap as Dean walked toward the driver to tell him where they were headed next. The van lurched from the curb beside Bone's condo, heading out to Franklin Park's rugby fields.

As the van drove away on the icy tarmac surface of Boston's streets, a bundled up man stood in the darkness nearby the closed gates leading into the apartment complex, watching the departing vehicle unobtrusively with an intense glare. His steel-grey coat flew every which way in the slight wind as the long braid of jet-black hair danced along with it.

The phone in his gloved hands vibrated at the same time as the digital clock displayed on one of the buildings above began to ding-dong with the arrival of the hour. He was hardly surprised. If there was one thing he had learned in all of his years spent with her, the woman prided herself on being punctual.

"They just left," Bone said, not bothering with a polite greeting. He watched the snow flurries continue to fall softly to the pavement. "You want the license plate number?"

"No need to bring unnecessary alarm at this point. I have bigger fish to fry," the soft, female voice on the other end of the line replied. "Did she take the bait you laid out?"

Bone nodded. "Yes, I took her earrings also."

The woman sighed, taking a moment to determine the consequences of that particular action.

"Return them during your next meeting. The last thing I want is superfluous questions deflecting attention from our main goal of getting rid of the risk."

"Yes, Miss Grey," Bone said. He was careful not to use her first name in public.

"Good job, Bone. I can always depend on you."

-/-/-/-/-/-

The pitch dark sky framed the expanse of green manicured turf of the rugby pitch in Boston's Franklin Park. Several lights illuminated the field from above, turned on in a lame attempt to provide a source of security and, usually, shelter for the homeless during the warm summer months. During the harsh winters that characterized New England states, most of the homeless found shelters inside.

A wise decision, Jane thought, shivering slightly on the flimsy, aluminum benches built next to the field for spectators. Luckily, the snow had stopped several minutes ago, but with the brief relief came the unabashed cold front that could leave all those unlucky enough to be outside frozen in their tracks. Even Jane's double-lined wool coat couldn't protect her from the havoc assaulting her senses.

For the third time, Jane looked hopefully at the dark gate to their north where Riley and Frankie would be coming from. To avoid suspicion, Dean had insisted they use different entrances and exits but that precaution added even more time to an activity that had already extended its welcome. She was beyond tired. It was time to go home and call it a night.

Despite her logical complaints, however, Jane recognized that her primary focus had to be on finishing this part of the operation properly. She had to meet with her UCs tonight while their memory was still fresh about what happened when things went dark. Jane had to know.

"So…," Dean said. He interrupted the brunette's private thoughts. "Those are cute."

Between the late hour and the cold, Jane was completely confused by the agent's sudden line of discussion. "And the relevance of that statement is…"

"Your mittens." He pointed at the mittens knitted with Jane's name and various scalpels and handcuffs decorating the black background. "I think they look cute."

Jane looked over at Dean with a smirk. "They're a little too cute for my tastes but you have to compromise sometimes to keep others happy."

Dean nodded, his eyes twitching slightly. "Frost wanted me to ask if Maura made them for you."

"Why would he ask _you_, of all people, to ask _me_, his partner, about whether Maura made my mittens for me?" Jane said suspiciously. "You might want to rewind and pause, Dean. A lie that bad shouldn't be left to hang around in a conversation too long. People might start thinking you're an idiot."

"I am _not _lying, Jane."

Jane laughed, sending a plume of hot breath into the air to condense into a heavy fog around her shadowed face. "And you're lying right now about not lying. For an FBI agent, you're surprisingly sucky at something those in your profession usually excel at."

"That's an unfair stereotype-"

"Dean," Jane interrupted halfway through a heavy sigh, pulling the warm, wool beanie further on her cold head. "If you want to know, all you have to do is ask."

In response, Dean made a huff of complaint, turning his attention back to the empty north entrance.

With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, Jane brought the steaming mug of coffee up to her face in effort to get some kind of warmth. "Yes, Dean, Maura made them for me. They were a Christmas gift, okay? She was tired of seeing me head to crime scenes in the cold with nothing protecting my hands. Do you need to know anything else to satisfy your curiosity or is that all?"

Dean, clearly in a non-responsive mood after being called out, slunk away from Jane with his characteristic brooding expression.

"But since you asked me a question, it would only be fair if I asked you one in return."

"Whatever," Dean shrugged.

Jane smiled cockily, "Lea must have been something else in bed to have your balls so firmly in her hand."

"What?" Dean exclaimed, turning back to face Jane with a bewildered expression. "I am not sleeping with Lea. To even _think_ the idea-"

"I know, I know, I know," Jane interrupted. "Of course you'd be stupid to still be sleeping with her after you dumped her from the case. But you _were _sleeping with her, weren't you? She rocked your world and left you picking up the pieces with no idea how to put them back together. Accept the truth, Dean. It feels so much better to let all of that tension come out."

"You're so lucky we're not on mics. Do you realize what you're saying? I could lose my job for fraternizing with a fellow agent, especially one under my purview."

Jane frowned, her eyes turning deadly serious. "And do you realize I could have lost my brother in there tonight? Lea is fucking up this operation by screwing around with me and my team's safety."

"She's hardly fucking anything up, Jane. So her information has been slightly inaccurate? Things are always changing in the field. Intel gets out of date. It happens all of the time."

"This isn't my first rodeo. I understand how intelligence and undercover operations work. But the fact that you're _standing up for her_ as if she's completely beyond reproach is what concerns me," Jane said. Her restrained anger threatening to bubble up from the well of emotion normally kept in check. "You're so blind to what's going on right in front of you that I'm starting to think it's time to bring in some reins."

Dean frowned. "Reins…what kind of reins?"

But before Jane could clarify, two lone figures from the north entrance of the rugby field made their way quickly toward the stands. As they got closer, Jane could see the sexy attire of Riley's undercover alias and Frankie's well-tailored but conservative attire following the young brunette. Scooting over, the detective watched interestedly as the two UCs climbed up the few steps, taking their seats next to the agent and older detective.

"I don't know if Bone had us followed to make sure I'm not seeing anyone else," Riley whispered quickly, keeping an eye on the lighted white lines of the rugby pitch before them. "What's the problem? Korsak mentioned something went wrong on your end with the signal."

"Bone has a jammer that interfered with our signal," Dean explained, interrupting Jane before she could ask. "We need you to tell us what happened."

With a frown, Riley looked over at Jane in concern. "You're kidding me… He didn't seem to be doing anything out of the ordinary when I was with him."

"Damn it," Frankie cursed, running his hand through his short hair. "I shouldn't have left with that guy."

"You can't be everywhere, Frankie." Jane offered a sympathetic pat to her brother's back. "So what did he do when he was with you, Riley?"

"Nothing much, really. He started off by asking me something I wasn't particularly prepared for…"

-/-/-Flashback-/-/-

"So who are you working for, Miss Carmen?"

Carmen continued to sip her champagne in an effort to hide her sudden concern. She didn't know what scared her more: her cover being blown or potentially having to ensure her and Frankie's safety without backup in a house full of guns and people who knew how to use them. Given her partner's inexperience and lack of trust, the latter was a far more potent threat.

"I work for myself, sweetheart," Carmen flirted, winking at the relaxed man next to her. "Why do you ask?"

Bone released a small smile. "I value honesty from my girlfriends. It may surprise you but I've had some…difficulties with this concept with some in my recent past. You aren't offended by my question, I hope?"

"No, I'm not offended," Carmen replied, curdled sweetness dripping from each syllable. She was glad to be off the hook. "But who was such a problem?"

"My last girlfriend. She had to leave for something or other. Honestly, I could care less after she had the audacity to tell me that she was working undercover for the feds before she left." Bone casually took a sip of his champagne. "Lea must have thought I was a complete idiot to believe that story. I wasn't interested in her anyway. Too much nag, nag, nag all the time. You're far more fascinating."

Carmen smiled in agreement, her mind trying desperately to connect the dots firing off in her head. The last agent who worked the case was a blonde woman, which she knew for certain. Yet her name managed to elude her. Was it Lea? It could have been…but why? Why would an undercover agent decide to risk everything by telling Bone that she was working undercover for the feds?

It just didn't make any sense. Far too many questions left her completely at a loss. If Bone was telling the truth – and why would he not given the circumstances? – Lea was running her own operation that ran contrary to their goals. And what that meant, Riley couldn't even begin to understand.

-/-/-End Flashback-/-/-

After Riley finished her retelling of the time she and Bone spent together, Jane growled in an effort to retain the frustration building for a second time that night. Lea's confession was completely out of line yet, in relation to everything else the blonde agent had done since her return to Washington, it made sense. Regardless of whether Bone was telling the truth, Jane had already formed her judgment against Lea.

"Dean…"

Dean shook his head, closing his eyes in thought. "No, Jane. You're just thinking the worst because you already have an issue with her. This could just be a lie to take our greatest asset out of the equation, leaving us without a source of valuable intel."

"Valuable? Our 'greatest asset'?" Jane asked incredulously, making exaggerated air quotes as the heat from her mouth billowed out like an angry train in the cold night. "How the hell can you say that Lea – the same Lea that has been feeding us faulty information and risking the lives of my team – is now the MVP of trying to get Cisco and his drugs off the streets? She's hardly proven her loyalty and now we've got allegations that she's dirty. How can that possibly be MVP behavior, Dean?"

"Bone's allegations mean nothing until they have been carefully checked out."

"And let me guess who's going to be doing the checking out process…" Jane raised a finger to her mouth in faux, concentrated thought. "Umm, you? Guess you'll just sweep it under the rug to keep your mistress happy. I guess I'll just forget about it."

"That's out of line, Detective," Dean said in warning, crossing his arms.

"And you're so completely blind to see that Lea is playing with us."

The wind picked up, whipping everyone's hair in an angry frenzy as Jane glared at the miserable looking agent. Dean seemed unperturbed by her powerful gaze but she saw the slight twitch of his dark brow. Between them Riley and Frankie sat uncomfortably, unsure of how to ease the tension bouncing back and forth between them.

Frankie coughed quietly. "Jane…c'mon. Lea is obviously doing something, okay? But it'll come out in time. For now, let's focus on getting Bone figured out. Isn't that the main goal?"

Jane whipped her head back to her brother with an angry frown. "Not if it means you and Riley are going to be put in unnecessary danger. I won't stand for it."

Suddenly, Jane stood up from the bleachers to walk off in the general direction of the exit of the rugby fields toward Franklin Park proper. She heard the sounds of complaint from behind her as Dean called out to the departing brunette but nothing could stop the detective now. Each angry step Jane took separated her even further away from the park.

Lea was a risk. Why didn't anyone else see that? Jane had no wish to see her friends and families lives at risk because of Dean's inadequacies in keeping his private issues separate from work. As hard as it might be, she had little patience to wait around until he figured out what balance worked best for him. There had to be someone she could talk to about this that could actually get results.

"Jane? Jane, is that you?"

Surprised to hear her name in the middle of night on the cold streets of Boston, Jane looked up to see a familiar form wearing black pajama bottoms and a threadbare red t-shirt wandering across the street. Next to his feet, a small dog wearing a mini Bruins jersey and specially designed yellow booties to protect from the cold kept in stride with its long-legged owner. She squinted at the figure in confusion.

The figure strolled toward Jane while the dog happily barked at the brunette. "What are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be working?"

"Eric?" Jane asked, voice shivering slightly. "I should be asking you what you're doing out so late with Jujubee." She kneeled down to pet the loving mass of wrinkles behind her long, floppy ears. "Still doing your late night walks in the cold?"

Eric smiled, ignoring the few late-night tourists still milling around and giving them curious looks. "You know me far too well, Janey. My cases are getting a little heavy at the moment. The DA put me on family court rotation which means a lot of confused kids, tears, and parents with little options on my docket. I've been so busy that I haven't had quality time with Justice."

"So four in the morning is the only time you have available for her?" Jane asked sarcastically.

"You know what…fine! I couldn't sleep, okay? Jesus, I forgot what a bloodhound you can be," Eric said exasperatedly. "You still haven't told me why _you're_ here."

"There's a problem."

Dean frowned as they started to walk together down the sidewalk with Justice in tow.

"Presumably with Dean."

Jane nodded. "One of his agents is dirty. She's been screwing up the operation and risking my team's lives. I don't want to go over his head with this, but I shouldn't have to make plans with a snake in the grass threatening to bite me and my team at every turn."

Eric continued walking in silent thought. Justice's ears happily flopped with each step she took as her nose took in the various smells of the buzzing nightlife of the city.

"I'll see what I can do," Eric sighed, tightening his coat around his neck. "I've been doing some recon of my own with this case, talking to some of my old sources in Vegas and what not. If this agent is dirty, they'll know."

"Thanks."

Eric shrugged. "And do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"Whatever."

"My house is just around the corner. You…need a ride back to your place? Since you've clearly walked here…." Eric frowned, looking up and down at her shoddy appearance. From her plainly tired face and ruffled appearance, he knew the detective had seen better days. "I don't like seeing you like this. Even back when we were dating, it always…broke my heart to see how hard you had to push yourself day in and day out."

Jane raised an eyebrow in shock. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Because I knew you loved it. Pushing yourself to the max…it's like your version of Red Bull," Eric replied casually before extending Justice's leash a couple of inches to allow the dog to comfortably sniff the various smells near her lowered nose. "I learned pretty quickly that stopping you from doing something is tantamount to suicide and endless abuse," the handsome prosecutor smiled slyly.

For the first time in what felt like a long time, Jane remembered how close they had been in the past. Forced to part all those years ago, the connection between them was still just as strong as the day they had met in his office over a drug case over ten years ago. They had quickly hit it off – if bickering about any old thing was considered hitting it off – and Jane had nearly fainted from laughter when the prosecutor had finally asked her whether she wanted to go to an authentic German _biergarten_ for a date. One date after another and Jane began to fall in love with Eric's dry wit and willingness to challenge her – a rare quality in most men.

When Eric had asked her to marry him, stupidly she had agreed. Her ma was always pushing her to find a man and the prosecutor made her feel so safe and protected that it seemed like a good match. In hindsight, the whole proposal had been a mistake. Jane had mistaken security with the kind of love required to be with someone for the rest of one's life. If she knew Maura was going to be the One for her and only her…she wouldn't have wasted Eric's time.

Hopefully, Eric understood that she never meant him any harm by moving on with Maura after having a hand in exiling him to Las Vegas. Ever since Eric had come back nearly a year ago, Jane had tried to silently emphasize to him that she had found the kind of love everyone looks for, except not with him. In her usual caring manner, Maura had insisted the two have a conversation, face to face, but with everything that had been happening in the last couple of months, the detective couldn't even think about what she had for breakfast yesterday, nonetheless what to say to her ex-fiancé about their comingled past. It just wasn't very high on her priority list. Eric was an adult. He didn't seem to have any issues with it, so why rock the boat?

"I'll take that offer," Jane smiled, her mind still tangled in thoughts. One thought in particular came rushing to her attention, causing her to punch the prosecutor in the arm. If Eric hadn't gone over her head with approving Frankie and Dean to go in unprepared, all of the nonsense from tonight maybe wouldn't have happened.

Jane had somehow managed to forget her exhaustion in all of the chaos of the night. But with exhaustion came the logical realization that she had run away from Frost and the operation. Granted, she had been disgusted with Dean's willingness to look the other way when it came to Lea's discretions but that didn't excuse her immature behavior.

_God…what's up with me lately? First the whole mess with Maura caused by me and now running away from an operation like a petulant child. I can't be a leader if my head is too busy cowering in the fetal position to protect my UCs from every little harm or risk._

Eric released a pitiful sound of pain, bringing the detective away from her inner dialogue. "I know you think just because I play semi-professional hockey and my nickname is Grizzly that I can handle physical assault but I really can't, Jane. All of this abuse really isn't necessary."

"That's for going over my head and agreeing to send my team in to hang out with international drug smuggler. Dean told me you checked off on it."

"I thought you'd be on board since Cisco is our main priority. Waiting around on our asses for things to come to us will leave us with nothing at the end of the day. And I want my just rewards, Jane. I've been waiting for too long to have an opportunity like this slip away," Eric said passionately. He shook his head to banish the passion away from his words. "Sorry, I went over your head. Won't happen again, Janey."

"Don't call me that."

"What? Janey? Would you rather I call you Clementine instead?" With an amused smile, Eric gave the brunette a friendly pat on the back. "It's great that you're finally learning to accept your girly side. That wife of yours is really doing wonders. Good for Maura. Must be all of that lesbian modified Kama Sutra positions you two have taken up."

Jane rolled her eyes, turning her attention to the plodding form of Justice in front of them. "Just take me home before I have to arrest myself for assault."


	25. Chapter 25

-/-/-Chapter 25-/-/-

Maura stood in the kitchen dressed in one of the few remaining designer clothes that still managed to fit over her enlarged stomach. Checking the clock on the screen of the television to make sure she was still on schedule, she continued to slice the tomatoes that would go into the salad bowl halfway filled already. The combined smells of warm home-cooked spaghetti a la carbonara and tiramisu wafted through the house, bringing feelings of family and love required of a Sunday lunch with the Rizzolis and her mother, back from Lillehammer.

On the couch, Jane sat in a funk, watching one of the endless Christmas movie celebrations that Maura had put on their Netflix instant queue on her iMac. Ever since Jane had gotten back from the operation concerning Riley and Frankie she had been in a bad mood. All Maura could gather from the moody brunette was that things had gone to the puppies and some agent that Dean was fixated on had been the cause of it.

Hopefully she can handle being around everyone, Maura thought. Jane could be a horrible hostess when in one of her legendary bad moods. The world ceased to exist before the wrath of the detective. And not having Frankie here would just be another visible sign of what went wrong during the operation, potentially leading to an even worse attitude on the detective's part.

"Jane," Maura began quietly while slicing the tomatoes into fine slivers. "If you're going to pout, we might as well cancel lunch."

With an exaggerated smile, Jane looked back at the busy blonde in the kitchen. "I'm fine."

"Really?"

"Really."

Maura laughed. "Honey, I might not be able to lie, but I'm pretty damn good at figuring out when other people are lying to me. There's no need to force yourself into doing something you don't want to do. I'm sure everyone will understand. Angela's been whining about taking me Christmas shopping with her for TJ and…well, you know who."

Jane narrowed her eyes. "Please don't tell me his first name rhymes with flan."

"Flan doesn't rhyme with Sean, honey."

"Eugh…my mother is Christmas shopping for my boss. And she wants you to come with. God, how weird can this get?"

Maura twiddled with her ring finger. "Well, Cavanaugh could always invite his ex-wife along."

"Vomit, that's just too much," Jane said, finding the thought slightly hilarious. "But we can't cancel. Cancelling Sunday lunch is the quickest way to make my mother gossip to anyone and everyone who'll listen to her rumormongering. You know I nearly had to change schools the last time I let her get riled up." Jane furrowed further into the comfortable couch with an amused smile. "Knowing her, she'll create more chaos trying to be helpful than if she hadn't tried at all."

"Well do you think you can improve your mood before they come? The last thing I need is listening to you huff and puff while attempting to persuade Lydia's mother that TJ couldn't possibly need Percocet for teething. I swear that woman needs to check into a 12-step program."

"Don't worry your little heart, Maura. I'll be fine by the time they'll arrive. Can't tell everyone about our pregnancy in a foul mood, right?"

Maura stood in silent shock as her mind struggled to process the words. "You mean…you're going to tell everyone about the baby?"

"It's not like we have much choice," Jane said sarcastically. "That belly of yours is getting bigger by the minute. Lydia might not be the brightest bulb in the pack but she'd have to be a legally retarded not to notice. Her mother will probably be high on pain killers, as usual, but Constance will certainly pick it up as soon as you open the door."

Maura stopped her slicing of the tomatoes to look down at her wardrobe. "Maybe I should change then? For an announcement like this, appearances are critical…"

"Honey, you look beautiful in whatever you wear. Plastic bag or Stella McCartney, it doesn't matter. Our family will understand." Jane moved to stand up from the couch after turning the computer off. "Is your father coming?"

"I don't think so. Father has a big conference in New York concerning his research on the communication of snow leopards in the Sichuan reserves. He's planning on driving in tomorrow from the house, but he's probably going to spend the whole day obsessing over the presentation. It's best he stay at home."

Jane raised an eyebrow in confusion. "So Constance and William are at home in Boston? That's a surprise. I would have thought they'd be in one of their winter homes in Istanbul or Montenegro."

"Usually they would be, but I asked Mother to be free for our weekly family get-togethers in advance. Mother figured she'd use the opportunity to show up to see me and drop off Christmas gifts before she heads off to Belgrade to spend time with my father's side of the family."

"So that's how you know Serbian," Jane realized. "Your dad's Serbian. You never told me that."

"Actually he's half Serb and half Macedonian, believe it or not. Father knows both Serbian and Macedonian. But if you ask him to speak a phrase, he'll ignore you. Father has always been a little embarrassed of his multilingual background."

"Why?" Jane asked curiously. "If I knew Italian, I'd be saying sexy phrases all of the time."

"Father moved to America fairly late in his life. He got an academic scholarship to BCU as a foreign exchange student. It forced him to learn an entirely different culture and language." Finishing her tomatoes, Maura placed them in the salad bowl before covering it in plastic wrap to keep air out. "To be accepted, Father had to give up some aspects of his heritage in order to be what he thought an American was. Speaking in Serbian and Macedonian were just two things that he deemed inappropriate to a true-born American citizen."

"So he didn't want to be seen as an import."

Maura smiled warmly. "Exactly. When Father taught me Serbian, he insisted that I only speak it at home. No showing off my linguistic skills at school, I'm afraid."

"And Macedonian?"

"I know a little bit. Not as well as I do Serbian or French or even German, but I can get by. I just never had a chance to pick it up. The languages share similar characteristics, so I could, in theory, learn Macedonian fairly easily, but I've never seen a reason to, quite honestly," Maura replied. She stuck out her tongue in a humorous expression. "Enough about that. Jane, do you think you could start setting up the table while I take out the tiramisu and make sure the spaghetti isn't getting too soggy? Your mother's family book of recipes are so exact, the last thing I want to do is screw things up on my first solo experience cooking Sunday lunch. I'd never live the embarrassment down."

"Sure. You need help with anything else?"

"You want to help me in the kitchen with the plating?"

Making a miserable face, Jane made her way over to the table after carefully taking the fine porcelain set of dinnerware – one of the many gifts from Constance and her husband – in her hands. Maura was renowned for her tendency to be a stickler for details. The last thing Jane wanted to deal with was her girlfriend's Germanic orders that could never be met while helping her with plating.

As Jane began to throw the expensive, elaborate, hand designed plates on the wood carved surface, the sound of the doorbell brought their attention away from their tasks. In confusion, she ran her hand through the tangled mass of curls.

"Your mother's early," Maura commented, drying her hands on the small towel. "I'll get it."

Jane shook her head while heading to the door. "No, you need to keep an eye on the tiramisu. Last time I cooked tiramisu it was crisp in the middle and burnt on the top. Even sugar and whipped cream couldn't make that edible. God knows we wouldn't want my ma to see that."

"Oh my god…you're so right, honey."

As Maura returned back to flitting around the kitchen, Jane shooed Jo away from the door and looked through the peephole to see, of all people, Dean staring back at her. His typical bored expression was marked with a rare sign of frustration in the way his jaw clenched and unclenched as a subconscious reflex. Immediately, she knew why he had decided to show up out of the blue on her doorstep.

"Maura," Jane called out in a loud voice. "It's Dean. He needs to talk about something regarding the operation. We'll be outside for a minute."

"Don't get lost."

Jane frowned. "What? How can I get lost in the walkway?"

"You could always drink a magical solution that makes you smaller. Like _Alice in Wonderland_."

"And the odds of that happening are fairly low."

"Nothing is improbable in the world of chance."

Jane rolled her eyes, choosing to ignore the blonde's unusual commentary. She opened the door with a false smile. "Hey, Dean. You look…miserable. Are you helping out at the Children's Hospital in their annual production of _Who Stole Christmas_? 'Cause there's no need to continue being the Grinch off the stage. It's gonna to scare the kids."

"You're such a damn hypocrite, Jane."

"Keep your voice down," Jane growled, closing the door quickly behind her. "Just because you're having a bad day doesn't mean you have to bring my wife into it."

"What the hell!" Dean exclaimed. "You two are _married_ now? When'd you find the time to run off and get hitched?"

"What? No…I mean no, we're not _married_ but we're married…kind of… Like she's my wife…not legally per se," Jane babbled under her breath, unsure of how to phrase their relationship to Dean properly. "You know what? It doesn't matter. We're together, okay? And, back to the subject, how dare you come to my house, cursing me out, and calling me names."

"You had no right to report Lea to Eric, of all people."

"I did what I had to do to secure the safety of my team, Dean," Jane admitted stiffly.

"This isn't _your_ team, Jane. You and I are working _together_ on this."

"Then act like it for a change instead of drooling over your female agent," Jane argued back in a whisper, her anger threatening to break loose. "Eric was the only one I could turn to. You were clearly too bamboozled by the woman to make the right decision so I went to someone who could."

"So protecting your team is more important than your working relationship with me."

Jane rolled her eyes with a tired sigh. "Oh, quit the dramatics, Meryl Streep. It doesn't have to be an either/or decision. I want to get Cisco. The only way that is going to happen is if you stay just as focused as I am. Lea has you so distracted that you can't even see that she's a liability."

"She was hardly a liability until proven."

"And I didn't want to risk Frankie and Riley's lives waiting on that opportunity presented itself."

Dean frowned heavily. "Going over my head wasn't necessary. Especially after all of that fuss you made about me going over your head and having Eric approve letting Riley and Frankie into Bone's place without any prior debriefing," he said calmly. "I don't expect you to wait until she makes a fatal error but throwing her over the ledge to the wolves was hardly appropriate. You've been undercover, Jane. You know some of the things a suspect will say to create suspicion."

"Sleeping with your fellow agent requires drastic actions."

"What does that mean?" Dean spat back.

"Objectivity involving her actions as of late is clearly not your strong suit. Reporting her to Eric was the wisest action. You weren't in a position to make the choice, so I did."

Dean crossed over the brick paved walkway to the large standing vase of flowers blooming in the winter. The whites, pinks, and reds blended against the light snowflakes that had managed to stick around from last night's winter flurry. Despite the cold weather, the beautiful arraignment of hues brightened the exterior of the home, thawing the chill of the day into a more reasonable temperature as the sun began to peek out of the grey clouds to greet the flowers.

From her position at the top of the small steps to the front door, Jane sighed tiredly. "Dean…listen to me. I'm not in the business of dragging someone's reputation through the mud just for a fleeting moment of glory. Eric doesn't know about your…indiscretion, whatever you want to call it, with Lea. I just asked him to look into her for me. See if there is some weight to Bone's allegations or not."

"Well there's no point. I took her off the case as a precaution. Told the boss that her intel was no longer needed and requested an immediate reassignment. She should be settling in to a new case back in Washington." Dean looked at the petals moving slightly in the breeze. "As you can see, I am not bamboozled or incapable of objectivity. I just like to make decisions based after reflection and not a whim like some of us."

Ignoring the dig, Jane smiled knowingly. "I hope you didn't go through a whole box of tissues writing your man feelings out in that diary of yours."

"How many times do I have to tell you…?" Dean turned around with a frustrated face. "It's a journal. Not a diary. And you make it seem like I cry regularly."

"Ohh…I get it. You're in denial."

"No, I'm not in denial."

Before Jane could reply back to the ruffled agent, a knock from the other side of the front door echoed before Maura opened the door with a bright smile. She was absolutely radiant despite being covered in a dirty, food-stained apron. Jane and Dean could do nothing but stare at the blonde in utter shock at how naturally beautiful she was. Maybe it was a pregnancy thing but Jane felt like her girlfriend had become a glowing star seemingly overnight, beaming with maternal love.

"Hi, Dean," Maura greeted with a wholehearted smile, "you look well. I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

Jane returned the blonde's smile with a warm, loving one of her own. "No, we were about to finish up. Unless…you have something else you need to say, Dean?"

"Umm…well," Dean said. He stared between the two women in baffled shock at the obvious love flowing between them. He felt like an intruder on a private moment between two longtime lovers and wanted desperately to leave. "Yeah, I'm just going to head out. You look…magnificent by the way, Maura. You've got this glowing thing going on. I might have to start calling you an angel soon."

Maura blushed, crossing her arms against her swollen stomach subconsciously. "You better stop with the flattery, Gabriel. Jane might think you're trying to flirt with me."

"I know better than that."

"You're free to accompany us," Jane offered. "We're having our weekly Sunday family lunch. It is close to Christmas after all…or whatever you celebrate. Might as well spend it with family. No better family than our mashed-up clan to make you realize how good you've got it."

"Jane…are you sure about this?" Maura asked worriedly, concerned for the announcement and how it could potentially affect Dean.

"It'll be fine, honey. Dean's a big boy," Jane said. She ushered the bashful agent into their home. "Don't mind the boxes. Maura's a little late with decorations this year. She hasn't been feeling well lately, leaving me with all of the heavy lifting and light hanging."

Maura frowned. Hopefully Jane knew what she was doing. Given her experience with the agent, she knew the man had a tendency to be slightly sensitive about, well, anything. She didn't know if she could handle her mother's reaction and Dean's inclination to crying at the same time.

-/-/-/-/-/-

All of the worry of dealing with a full house had been for naught. Besides Maura and Jane the only members of their combined family that had decided to show up were Angela and Constance. Tommy, Lydia, and her mother had to cancel because TJ's teething had given him a fever, forcing them to stay put for the day. Maura had seemed slightly bent out of shape given the amount of food she had prepared but Jane could barely repress her happiness at not having to deal with Lydia's mother. Honestly, the ratty looking woman gave the tough-as-nails detective the heebie-jeebies.

Just because we're family, doesn't mean we have to like each other, Jane thought.

So now Jane had to play nice with Constance, Dean, and her mother. As Maura continued to guide the conversation into neutral territory like a good hostess, the brunette kept her eyes on the various characters around their dinner table while carefully chewing the spaghetti.

Angela congratulated Maura on her skill with the recipes from the Rizzoli cookbook, gushing with never-ending compliments and flattery to her honorary daughter. Constance, on the other hand, remained somewhat aloof from the over-the-top mannerisms of the older woman sitting across from her but still managed to chime in with her usual sophisticated air. And Dean tried his best to avoid being noticed, his normally downtrodden face even more miserable in appearance.

Jane just hoped telling their parents about the baby wouldn't get out of hand. Upon their arrival, she had been expecting Constance to casually mention her daughter's pregnancy in her usual way of stating the obvious but – to her surprise – she had said nothing other than the usual pleasantries. Even Maura had managed to give the detective a look of absolute bafflement before returning to the duties of being a good hostess. If Constance did know, she gave little inclination.

_Either she's a damn good actress or she's waiting on her daughter to say something…_

"Jane," Constance said. The older woman interrupted Jane's thoughts. "It's been awhile since I've seen your brothers. Maura is always telling me that one of them had a new baby boy named…Thomas?"

Jane nodded. "Yeah, that's the youngest, Tommy. He was the one that got lost at that party you threw for us a while back. He kinda knocked up my dad's ex-fiancée." From underneath the table, Angela kicked Jane's shin, eliciting a grimace from the detective. "And that is a long story for another time. TJ's about a year old now."

"TJ…like Thomas Jr., presumably?"

"Hopefully," Jane said with a wry smile. "Knowing how much of a ditz Lydia is, she probably named him Tommy Jr. on his birth certificate."

Another kick in the shin came from under the table. Jane frowned in annoyance at her oblivious girlfriend. Really? Jeez…now I know why Eric bitches so much about me hitting him all the time.

"Please give your brother my late congratulations. If he'd like I can always send him one of my Rauschenbergs for the nursery?"

"No, I think you can save the gift. My brother doesn't know what a Rauschenberg is."

"What's a Rauschenberg?" Angela asked bashfully.

Maura stood up to grab her iPad from the couch, plainly revealing her pregnancy to anyone with eyes. Constance remained unaffected, focusing exclusively on swirling the pasta on the plate with her fork.

"This is a Rauschenberg." Maura sat back down, handing the tablet out to Angela. "That's one of his more famous pieces, _Monogram_. His works are quite celebrated in the modern art world. My mother actually met him as an art student during her graduate studies."

"His combination of various mediums always captured my attention," Constance interjected with a slight smile. "In many ways, I modeled my own style on his techniques. My husband has been trying to get me one of his earlier Combines for display in my studio at the house. Don't tell him I know, Maura. You know how much your father gets in such a fit when people spoil his surprises."

Maura smiled knowingly before turning to the hunched over form of their only male guest. "Dean? Do you know anything about modern art? You've always seemed like a modern art kind of guy."

Dean looked up at the various female eyes staring at him nonjudgmentally, egging him on to join the conversation. "I've always preferred Jasper Johns over Rauschenberg in terms of the Neo-Dadaists."

"Both have their skills and flaws," Constance replied. Everyone chose to ignore Angela's attempt to hide her lack of education in the arts. "Art is all dependent on one's perspective. And perspective can never be gauged by such simple standards of right or wrong." She turned to her daughter in a calm, thoughtful manner. "Speaking of art, Father wanted me to give you your Christmas present a little early. I hope it hasn't broken during the trip."

Everyone watched in quiet amusement as Maura's face brightened in excitement. Constance took the small wrapped box from her Hermès bag and handed it to Maura with a smile. Instead of ripping into the gift, the blonde stared at the decorated box while Jane and Angela stared at her in nervous anticipation. Even Dean had managed to look up from his self-imposed brooding to learn what was in the box.

"Well?" Jane asked. "You gonna open it or stare at it all day?"

"Father always gives the best gifts. I have to prepare for the shock."

"Then prepare faster," Jane bantered back in a playful tone.

Maura gingerly opened the wrapping paper. She promptly gave a scream of delight upon revealing what was inside. "I wish Father wouldn't spoil me so. This probably cost him an arm and a foot."

"An arm and a leg," Jane corrected. "But I don't get it… What exactly is it?"

Jane stared at the small object in Maura's hand. The small round, globe like object reflected the light off of its multicolored surface. With the slight movements of the blonde's hand, gold Chinese characters could be seen inside the fragile object, swirling around what appeared to be an ornate dragon. Clearly, even with her untrained eye, she could see the amount of craftsmanship went into the tennis-ball sized object.

"It's jade. Very valuable in the Chinese culture. He must have gotten it during his joint research with the specialists on the snow leopards," Constance replied. "I swear that man spends far too much on some things."

"It's beautiful, Mother. Tell Father I love it dearly. I'll put it in my office on the bookshelf."

As the two women discussed the fragile trinket, Jane noticed out of the corner of her eye her mother starting to sidle up to Dean. The brooding man seemed to be getting even more uncomfortable with each disappearing inch of space that had separated him from Angela's obvious curiosity.

"So…Gabriel," Angela started in a whisper, her friendly smile impossible to ignore. "You must be the contributor."

Dean gave her a curious look. "Contributor? Contributor of what?"

"Of the sperm, silly."

Coughing on the sudden mass of spaghetti stuck in his throat, Dean coughed loudly into his napkin. Jane turned to look at Dean and her mother with a raised eyebrow. "Ma…what did you say to him?"

"I just asked him if he's the sperm-" Angela began.

"How would everyone like some tiramisu?" Maura interrupted, standing up abruptly from her chair. "Angela, how about you come help me in the kitchen with the slicing? I don't want anyone to get too big of a serving and end up getting sick. Too much misu is never a good thing."

With a nod, Angela made her way into the kitchen, glad to be helping out. Jane breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Somehow Maura had managed to avoid a potential flare-up that could have dire consequences. Dean seemed to be still utterly confused but he'd give up eventually trying to figure out the meaning of her mother's words. They all did…eventually.

In her own experience, most men have a critical period in which understanding could occur. Once that point had passed, they would move on to something far less difficult, usually involving their hands and/or loud, grunting noises. Jane smiled, knowing the serious agent wouldn't be the exception to that rule.

Constance, on the other hand, was not as easily deterred.

"Maura, when are you planning on telling me the news?"

Raising her head in confusion, Maura frowned. "What news?"

"About your pregnancy."

The room went silent. Jane could do nothing but drop her jaw in shock while Maura stared at her mother with a similar comical expression.

"Did you know the whole time?" Jane asked, breaking the silence.

Constance nodded. "Just because I was unable to have a child of my own doesn't mean I have forgotten how pregnancy works, Jane. I know my daughter like the back of my hand." She gave Maura a humorous look. "Remember the patchouli incident back in college?"

"Yes, Mother, of course I do," Maura said. "But…why didn't you say anything?"

"Because it wasn't my place to do so. I might be your mother, darling, but I'm hardly involved in your relationship to warrant meddling. I figured the two of you would come around."

Maura looked over at Jane for assistance, unsure of how to proceed. As much as she wanted to tell her mother, she knew they had to be ready together. She had learned her mistake from last time. If the brunette needed more time before admitting what was common knowledge, she had no problem with waiting a little longer.

With a subtle nod, Jane gave her acceptance to spill the beans.

"Well…I guess we should spill the peas. Jane and I – how should I put it? – have decided to have a child together." Maura placed a hand on her stomach with a bashful smile. "I'm about four months along. And, before you ask, we didn't want to tell you until everything was completely settled. The first couple of months are the riskiest."

Constance stood up from the table to give her daughter a large hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Congratulations, darling. I'm so very happy for you. My daughter is going to be a mother. I can scarcely believe it."

Angela clapped for the two of them before giving Jane an exaggerated look of sadness. "If you had told me, Jane, we could have had a special moment together like Maura and her mother."

"Really, ma? If you hadn't've been so damn nosy, you could have had your Kodak moment too."

Angela rolled her eyes just as Constance turned to Dean with a warm smile. "And you must be the father." She studied the shocked face of the man still sitting at the table. "I have to say, you don't seem to be my daughter's type. But Maura is known for her experimental streak. You wouldn't believe some of the things she did back in college. Once, I caught her and her philosophy professor in our heated pool-"

"Wait…" Dean stood up, straight as an arrow. "What the… You mean _I'm_ the father? How could I be the father? I haven't seen Jane in years! I am not ready for child support payments. I just finished paying off my Honda, for god's sake."

"Dean!" Jane exclaimed. "You are _not _the father of our child. I repeat to everyone in the room, this man is _not_ the father. He's a friend of sorts."

Maura smiled. "I get it…that's a _Jerry Springer_ reference. I'm getting really good at this pop culture thing. Maybe I'll make a joke about Yogi Berra."

"It's Yogi Bear, honey. Not Yogi Berra. Yogi Berra was a baseball player." Jane shook her head tiredly. "But good try. Keep working on it and you'll get it."

"So who's the father?" Angela asked excitedly.

"Frost."

"It is kind of chilly in here," Constance replied.

Jane laughed in her usual booming voice. "No, not that kind of frost. Detective Barry Frost is the father. He's my partner at BPD. We wanted to have a donor that could be involved in the child's life. Maura insisted on it."

"Wait," Dean said, finally managing to find his voice. He still looked just as bewildered as before. Jane couldn't help but smile at the bewildered agent struggling to understand what had just been disclosed. "So…you two are lesbians. And you're having a baby together. With your partner's sperm, making him your baby daddy. And, once it's born, you'll be two moms raising your child…together." He went silent for a brief moment to process. "What? Are you kidding me? Is this real life because there's no way that this is happening. I mean, seriously. Jane as a mother? That's like training a dog not to bark; it's impossible."

Jane shook her head in amusement. As funny as all of this nonsense was, it was starting to get out hand. Dean was clearly overwhelmed by the news and Constance and Angela had that look as if they were about to invite each other to an impromptu baby buying spree.

But, not to outdone by craziness, her mother broke out with one last comment in the middle of slicing the tiramisu, "You know the baby is going to be half black right?"

Yep…they had officially hit the Mt. Everest of crazy commentary. Thanks, Ma. This wacky lunch with the family – with the addition of Dean – wouldn't be complete without you. Jane turned to Maura with a look that was reciprocated by the blonde. It was about time to end this debacle for everyone's sakes.

"So…," Maura beamed. "Who wants misu? I know I do."

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

From the kitchen, Jane and Maura both watched in embarrassment as their two mothers walked each other out, talking about baby nonsense all the while. They had spent the last thirty minutes chatting about names, cravings, and nursery items over tiramisu, making an awkward dinner turn even more awkward for everyone, including poor Dean who had to sit through the whole thing with a miserable face. For the first time in a long time, Jane actually felt remorse for asking the man to spend lunch with them.

I wouldn't have even considered the idea if I knew it was going to get like this, Jane thought. At most, she had expected a few tears and a ton of questions.

"That went well," Maura said. She helped Jane load the dishes in the dishwasher.

"Yeah, if you say so." Jane turned back to look at the stunned agent looking blankly at his untouched tiramisu. "Dean looks like he just saw Casper. And we didn't even tell them that we used my eggs."

"Let's just save that tidbit for a later date. They've already left to start buying gender neutral baby clothes. No need to bring them back. And Dean can't handle much more excitement."

At the table, Dean stood up slowly, his usual mask back on his face. "I think I'm going to head out too."

"Would you like some misu for the road?" Maura asked. "I've already put some in a Tupperware container for you."

Dean nodded absent-mindedly, his mind clearly elsewhere. "Thank you," he said. The agent took the container from her hand. "I'll return this to Jane when I see her. And, I just want to say…" He cleared his throat. "Congratulations to you both for the baby and…well, everything. You two really are meant for each other. I guess love transcends gender boundaries."

He smiled, tilting his head in a gesture to leave. The door closed quietly behind him, leaving Jane and Maura in silence, unsure of how to respond.

"You know what?"

Jane raised an eyebrow. "What, sweetheart?"

"I think…it's time we stop making fun of him like we do. It's not very nice."

"Yeah," Jane said with a slight smile. "I think you're right. It took balls for him to say what he did. Any person with that kind of courage is a person worthy of my respect. But I still think it's weird how the man keeps a man-diary."

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

After the day they had just had, Jane found the contrast between the icy cold weather of a clear Boston night on her ears and the sizzling heat from the Jacuzzi's bubbling water against her body. The sensation was made even better in the nude, a rare allowance given by her safety-minded girlfriend. When they had decided to get the hot tub for the house – Maura thought it would be a good way to add value to the house if they chose to sell it in the future – Jane had argued about the amount of maintenance it would require on her part but, during rare moments like this, the price was more than paid off.

Jane leaned back against the padded head rest, her eyes closing against the brilliance of the starry sky. Heat bubbled all around her, through her, forcing the stress from each of her pores. With all of the underlying chaos of the undercover operation and telling their family about the pregnancy, it had been far too long since she had felt so completely, utterly relaxed.

_God…I've forgotten how good it feels to just…be with her._

"You having fun?" a voice asked from behind the relaxed woman. The wooden stairs leading from the yard to the patio made a slight squeaking sound as a person made their way to the Jacuzzi.

Jane smirked. "It'd be a lot better if you were in here with me." She opened an eye before turning to wink at Maura. "But it might be a little cold for your tastes."

"As long as I'm with you," Maura flirted, "I'll be plenty warm enough."

"Maybe I should turn the heat down. Wouldn't want you to burn with all this heat building up."

Maura rolled her eyes. "You're such a sex fiend. That's all you ever think about. Sex, sex, sex, and – oh, wait for it – even more sex." She made her way to the bubbling water, throwing off the small robe to reveal her nude form to the cold, night sky. "May I come in?"

"I'll try to keep my hands to myself." Jane made an exaggerated display of welcome to the patient blonde. "As long as you promise not to tease."

Maura stepped into the water and immediately dunked her head into the water, her hair now taking on her natural shade of burnt amber with golden highlights. Jane tried not to stare too obviously at the beautiful woman beside her, finding the act difficult. "No need to make promises we both know will be impossible to keep," Maura said. She returned Jane's wink. "You alright?"

Jane frowned. "Why would I not be?"

"I don't know," Maura replied, snuggling up next to her long-term lover. "Your mother is such a catch all of the time. Adding the baby into the mix is like pouring fuel on an already burning fire."

"One out of two, sweetheart."

Maura tilted her head in cute confusion. "I thought I got them all right that time?"

"It's trip. My ma' is a trip, not a catch. But the pouring fuel metaphor was right on target."

"Tomato, tomäto." Maura shrugged nonchalantly. "Regardless, I'm sure you have to feel better after finally telling everyone about our decision. I know I do."

"It's hardly everyone, honey. We still haven't told anyone at work."

Maura smiled, completely unperturbed. "But we've told everyone that matters at the moment. There's no rush to open the pages of our life to anyone and everyone yet. The first step is always the hardest and we made it through together. Let's just be glad for that."

Jane snorted. She couldn't resist the desire to return her girlfriend's joyous positivity with her traditional brand of sarcasm. "Thank you, Miss Optimistic. Let's just ignore that Dean looked like he was near death when he left."

"Dean's an adult," Maura replied calmly. "Once he gets over the understandable shock, he'll perk right back up."

"Or right back down given his need to maintain his title as Prince Dean van Brooding."

Maura gave the taller woman a playful slap. "I thought we were going to be nicer to Dean."

"Yeah," Jane said. "I forgot. Old habits die hard, honey. I'll stop."

With an amused smile, Maura dunked her head back under the water. The heat sizzled against her scalp as the warmth thawed her cold, wet head. She knew Jane was just being her usual funny self, not meaning any harm to Dean with her jokes. Coming up from the water, she gave her girlfriend a curious look. "Why'd you even sleep with him in the first place?"

Jane gave the blonde a quick double-take, plainly taken aback at the change in conversation. "And the reason you want to know is…"

"I've always been interested in what attracts you to the various men in your life. Steve, Eric, and now Dean. Do you have a problem with me asking?"

Jane sighed. "Of course not. It's a little late in our relationship to be hiding nonsense like that," she said. She took a brief moment to gather the thoughts in her head. "Dean…was a distraction against the feelings I was beginning to have for you. I didn't understand what they meant and it…scared me. It might be a horrible thing, but I wanted to use him to stay in denial that I was starting to fall in love with my best friend."

"And you didn't tell him that…did you?"

Jane made a comical face of surprise. "Oh, dear god no. In hindsight, I should have told him something so he didn't think he got dumped, but he's been gone since that night we hooked up over three years ago. I used Dean for my own needs. It's disgusting and-"

Maura silenced the brunette with a slow, passionate kiss. Their tongues mingled in a relaxed pas de deux, hardly in a rush to move forward with this act of what promised to be an eventful play. The bubbles from the hot water continued to pop and burble around them, forming a barrier between the couple and the outside world.

"Jane?"

Jane made a sound of acknowledgement against Maura's lips. She was enjoying the heat building between them, the feel of her girlfriend's soft skin against her own nearly impossible to ignore. "What about Constantine?"

"Are you getting a new turtle?"

Maura giggled. "For the baby, Jane. What do you think about Constantine for a boy?"

"This is an odd conversation shift," Jane replied with a raised eyebrow.

"You don't like it?" Maura asked. "I just thought it would be a good name to represent how much my mother means to me by naming my first-born child after her."

"So Constantine for a boy and Constance for a girl?"

Maura nodded. "Do you like?"

"I think it's a beautiful name. It's very powerful. Seems more like a middle name though. Don't know that many Constantines running around the playground." Jane moved Maura closer to her. "But promise me your mother won't do the whole trust fund thing with the baby. I don't want our child to be like, you know, one of those obnoxious kids that have three horses and a yacht but feel like their giving back by giving clothes to Goodwill and volunteering at the soup kitchen every Christmas."

Maura bit her lip as Jane's hands roamed lower. "I…I don't know, honey. It's a tradition in the…Isles family for the…firstborn to be given a fifty-thousand dollar trust fund. If it makes you feel better," she groaned as the brunette's hands began to play with a particularly sensitive spot, "I couldn't touch my trust fund until…twenty-five."

"Maybe I can work with that," Jane whispered as she stopped teasing the blonde, entering the welcoming warmth that never ceased to lose its heat.


	26. Chapter 26

-/-/-Chapter 26-/-/-

Oscar yawned in boredom as her eyes continued to glare at the numbers streaking across the screen of the television in her living room. The international and domestic stocks for companies, commodities, and other trade goods fought for her attention as endless red, white, and gold numbers scrolled on the ten bars situated strategically around the stereotypically handsome reporter's face. Even the reporter seemed bored to be spending valuable holiday time spouting nonsensical numbers to the few people who, like Oscar, worked all day, every day.

Oscar had little interest in the stocks. The only reason she had chosen to spend the week in New York for the holidays was because her prior arrangement fell through, leaving her high and dry. Doing nothing and relaxing was out of the option. It was impossible to relax in New York; the visual reminders of work were everywhere. Getting away was her only option for some sort of peace; but, since that option was null and void, all she could do was continue with her daily routine.

"Damn it," Oscar cursed. She threw her fountain pen at the wall, a rare sign of frustration. "I wish greed would take a holiday."

With an exasperated sigh, she looked up to see her mother's handmade menorah on the sleek bookshelf. Several of the candles were lit in accordance with the eight-day long celebration of Hanukkah. The menorah was plainly decorated except for a slight visual flaw in the uneven heights of the arms of the silver piece. Oscar smiled as the memory of her mother telling her about how her childhood over-eagerness to craft the menorah had resulted in the slight mistake.

Oscar smiled to no one in particular. "Sorry, mama. I should know better than to curse during Shabbat. It was rude of me."

It had been over a decade since her mother had been with her during the holiday season. She had died when Oscar had been entering her teenage years. Those years were still fresh in her mind despite being nearly in her forties, thirty years since the death of the only mother she would ever know. The principles she had been taught to observe regarding her morality in all aspects of her life were culled by her mother, seemingly in preparation for the day in which she'd be kidnapped into her father's world of deception, cruelty, and pain.

Oscar remembered faintly that her stepmother had again called her to visit the man before his inevitable death, but her decision had not wavered. Seeing him on his deathbed…it held little satisfaction for her. Watching her father die would be nothing more than a voyeuristic pleasure lasting but a brief moment.

Oscar wanted more than just ten seconds of bliss. The only way to achieve the peace she so desperately wanted was to take her father down from the inside. Just the idea of shaming his name and making him a laughing stock amongst the men he had tried so hard to gain respect from brought a smile to her face. She had always silently rebelled against the image he had shaped her in. All of the passive resistance she had done against his oppression …finally, after years of waiting, she would have her revenge.

From across the room, the sound of polite knocking rang through the darkened room, interrupting her thoughts. Oscar looked up in suspicion. She wasn't expecting visitors. Only Bone had ever been given permission to enter her inner sanctum without calling beforehand; and even with this rule, Bone always insisted on letting her know in advance.

The visitor knocked for a second time, forcing Oscar to walk over to the door. Each step she took was slow, methodical, and deliberate.

Oscar opened the door, revealing a small boy wearing an ornate uniform of some organization or other. "Hello," she greeted, painting her face with an exuberant smile. "And your name would be?"

He extended his hand in a severe manner usually seen in those in the armed forces. "Elijah Jacobs, ma'am. I'm a member of the local Boys Club for my school," he flashed his various medals and recognitions on his sash along with his prep school ID, "and I would like to know whether you would like to buy a box of fresh baked goods to support our organization."

Oscar raised an eyebrow. With a smirk, she lowered down on one knee to meet the child on his eyelevel. "How old are you, Elijah?"

"Umm…," he stuttered under the beautiful woman's severe, amber gaze. "Thirteen, ma'am."

"And, let me guess, your liberal-minded parents live in this building."

Elijah nodded. "We live down the hall from you." He pointed in the general direction of the condo door. "My mom helped me make the cookies. She didn't want me to go out by myself outside though. She told me to stay on this floor and see if anyone wants to buy one up here first and then my nanny will take me downstairs."

"That's wise," Oscar replied disinterestedly. "Far too many wolves in sheep's clothing out there."

"I'll be fine. My mother taught me not to talk to strangers that look dangerous."

Oscar frowned. "Danger doesn't usually announce itself to its prey, little boy," she warned, narrowing her eyes. "And what exactly do these cookies look like? I have a slight allergy to chocolate."

"No way, me too. That's why my mother suggested using ingredients that are safe alternatives," Elijah said. "We used no gluten, soy, dairy, and corn by products, whatever those are in the recipes."

Oscar cringed. No gluten, soy, dairy, and corn in cookies meant only one thing…nasty pieces of cardboard that taste like dry sand. It was one thing to be healthy, but those who made more than $100k per year usually took things a little too far.

The small boy was quite observant, however, immediately picking up on the flash of frustration displayed on the woman's face. "It's not that bad." He grabbed one of the pink boxes next to him on the floor, opening it to reveal delectable cookies covered in festive colors. "I had one earlier. They were really good. My mother is such a good cook."

Oscar turned her attention from the cookies to the excited boy practically begging her to buy a cookie to help his organization. His eyes melted into a pool of sweet innocence, reminding Oscar of her own innocence snatched away as soon as her mother had been murdered by her father.

"You must have spent a lot of time on these," Oscar replied sweetly.

Elijah nodded bashfully. "It wasn't that long. But thanks for the compliment, ma'am."

"Could you wait here for a brief moment?"

"Yes, ma'am," Elijah replied.

After a brief moment, Oscar came back with a crisp bill in her hand. She handed the bill to the child with a small smile. "I'll take the whole box. They look so good, I can't resist."

"Really? I mean…you don't have to…"

"I want to, Elijah. Do not deny me the opportunity to splurge on sweets."

The boy handed over the box of cookies before realizing the amount of money Oscar had given him. "Ma'am, I've think you've given me too much. The box only costs twenty."

"I assumed as such," Oscar said, munching on the cookies with a bored expression.

Elijah did a double-take. "But you've given me a one-hundred dollar bill…"

"And I expect you to use it wisely, Elijah."

With a smile, Oscar turned back into her inner sanctum, closing the door behind her silently. It felt nice to give. She would have preferred to have spent time with the young men and women under her care back in her childhood home in Brazil, giving all of the money she had accrued over the year with selling drugs back to those who could actually use it for bettering their lives. A child living in the lap of white patriarchal luxury was hardly in need of assistance but, given the environment, it was still a beneficial donation.

Maybe he'll actually get away from the sin and greed of these decaying monuments of capitalism, Oscar thought ruefully. Anger began to build as her mouth continued nibbling on the moist sugar cookie, but she forced the tide back under control. Today was Shabbat. There was no need to lose control on a holy day.

Just as Oscar made her way to her stainless steel refrigerator to grab the carton of soy milk, another – this time far more aggressive – knock came from the door. She rolled her eyes in annoyance. One unexpected visitor was fine; two was just straight up ridiculous.

"Oscar!" a familiar female voice growled. "I know you're in there. You didn't take your jet to that stupid, impoverished, Brazilian hovel. Open the damn door, sister!"

It would be her…idiot.

Oscar opened the door reluctantly. "Only you would decide to come here without calling first," she said tiredly. There was no point wasting the energy to glare at the shorter woman before her. The frizzy haired woman wore a long, red coat covered in half-melted snowflakes, a bored expression on her face as her eyes flashed angrily. To those uninitiated to their unique family arrangement, the two women looked like twins, sickening Oscar more than anyone could ever know.

The woman slinked by her sister as if she owned the place. Oscar scowled, "You have no reason to be here, Leabeth. Unless…have you decided to celebrate the Jewish holidays with me? Catholics are renowned for their inflexibility for other religions. I applaud your ability to break the trend, sister," she said sarcastically.

Lea chuckled slightly at the use of her full name. "And it's nice to see you too, Silvia. Don't play games with me. You know perfectly well why I'm here."

"I told you never to use that name with me, sister."

"What? You can dish it out, but you can't take it? Poor little Silvia," Lea said with exaggerated misery. She looked at the box of cookies with a frown before picking them up and throwing them in the trash. "You shouldn't be eating such filth. It's not healthy for you. God knows I wouldn't want you to die on me. Then we'd be having two funerals instead of one."

"Fuck you, Lea. When did you start caring about my health?" Oscar said. She walked toward the abandoned living room sofa, hating that her sister could still cause so much emotion from her.

Ever since Lea had been born, Oscar had made it her priority to disappear, using boarding school, summer camp, and the like to stay away from the new daughter that had happily taken her spot in her father's new life as a drug smuggler. Father had hardly put up an effort to keep her at home, preferring his precocious daughter from his old wife to be out of mind, out of sight for his own sanity.

When he passed down the business to her against her will, Oscar had no choice but to develop a relationship with her half-sister. The last thing she needed was a potential risk running around unabated while she restructured her father's "little side business."

After careful probing and interrogation, Oscar had determined that Lea was going to be a constant liability. She had tried keeping the young woman busy with the usual suspects. College, sports, programs, all failed. Lea still managed to get into trouble with everything she touched, causing Oscar and Bone unbelievable amounts of headache.

_What does the damn woman want now? Can't she just sit in her cage and wait quietly with her numerous toys while the adults do business?_

"You blew my operation with the feds," Lea shouted. She flung her wet coat off, barely managing to avoid knocking off the menorah from the bookshelf. "I told you I had it under control."

Oscar yawned, checking her Rolex in blatant boredom. "I don't like to talk business on the Sabbath."

Lea rolled her eyes before taking the remote to change the channel. "Fuck the Sabbath. You make it seem like you're some devout Jew all of the sudden." She plopped down on the couch next to her sister. "What you did was completely unnecessary. I bet Bone told you I was screwing up. Your little boyfriend can't even tie his own shoe without letting you know about it beforehand. If you want to keep watch over me, why don't you just put a tracker in me like a dog instead of getting it from _him_ of all people?"

Oscar was completely mute as she stared blankly at the snow covered landscape in the window. Just the sound of Lea's voice was enough to make her tame temper buck wildly from her numerous self-restraints and calming techniques.

"It's not very festive, Oscar. Where are the Christmas tree and the lights? It's like you're the Scrooge," Lea observed. "Sometimes I can't believe you're a drug smuggler when you live like this."

Oscar grabbed the remote, switching the television off. "If it's such a problem, Lea, why don't you go home? How many times I have wished for you to disappear…"

"Don't be so dramatic," Lea said tiredly. "If you didn't have the annoying habit of micromanaging all of the time, I wouldn't be here ruining your dungeon of introspective silence." She turned to look around the room. "Is the dominatrix here? What's her name…Henrietta? God knows why you've been seeing the bitch for so long. It's been like six months. But I guess it's hardly surprising. A woman in your position of power going out with a slut who makes her living on taking power away from those used to wielding it…makes sense in a warped kind of way."

In a flash, Oscar slapped the smaller blonde across the face. She had had enough of her half-sister's rambling stupidity. There was only so much she could take when it came to Lea.

"You bitch!" Lea screamed. She extended her hand in an attempt to return the favor. Oscar deftly moved away from her sister's reach, using her height and strength as an advantage in bringing her to her submission. The two tumbled to the floor as their hands scratched and clawed for control over the other. Oscar just managed to stay on top of Lea as they hit the floor. Now that the younger woman was underneath her, she could recapture the control she had nearly lost in the emotional tide that always came with Lea's unexpected visits.

"Lea, I swear, I will murder you right now if you keep talking about matters that don't concern you. Henrietta is my affair. My business is my affair. Everything in this house is _mine_. Even you, dear sister, are my pawn to use as I see fit."

Lea narrowed her eyes. "You can't control everything, Oscar."

"I can damn well try."

"Easier said than done," Lea whispered. She pushed her sister off with little effort before rummaging in her khakis for a letter. "You can imagine my surprise when I got this."

Oscar grabbed the letter, reading over it quickly. Inwardly, she was excited that her plan to get Lea off the case worked, making a mental note to congratulate Bone later, but managed to keep her excitement in check so as not to rile up the crazy blonde even further. "I'm not sure what this means in association with myself."

"Dean took me off the case. He's questioning my loyalty for god's sakes. This could affect my relationship with the entire FBI."

Oscar shrugged. "I thought you didn't even like being an agent. What happened to the girl that whined when I told her that she would be working with the government?"

"That was because you were using me to cultivate your contacts. This is different, Oscar. I actually like Dean and working with the feds." Lea crossed her arms across her chest. "I know you, sister. You planned all of this in that big head of yours."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Leabeth."

"Bullshit, Silvia. Your lies don't work on me," Lea spat back. "You planned this with that stupid lackey of yours. Bone aka the Geronimo Wannabe. You guys have been together for so long sometimes I think you might even be sleeping with each other."

"The same way you're fucking Gabriel Dean?" Oscar replied under her breath.

Lea's mouth dropped in shock. "How do you know that?"

"I know everything, sister. And, not to mention, you just told me with your expression. You never could hide anything from me."

"I really wish you'd trust me, just once. Instead of poking around in my life like it's some kind of a plaything, I'd wish you'd be my sister for once. You treat me like I'm some damn invalid that needs constant attention."

Oscar rolled her eyes. "God, somebody cue the violins. No need to bring out the sympathy card. The day I treat you like an adult is the day you act like one. I've been taking care of you since I was a child. Do you think I _wanted_ to give everything away to help raise my father's bastard? No, but I did anyway because it was _the right thing to do_. Love, respect, and all of that sentimental Hallmark Card nonsense has nothing to do with it."

"You're ridiculous."

"Who do you think paid for all of those years of boarding school? It certainly wasn't our deadbeat father. His main focus was gambling away the little money he had left into deadbeat racehorses and high-risk baccarat. All for what? To fake a fraud trying to keep up with the Vanderbilts and Stanfords." Oscar rolled her eyes with a shrug. "If he hadn't forced me to take over, you would have been living in a doublewide dreaming about the what-ifs with your utterly simple minded mother."

"Don't talk about Father that way," Lea argued, blushing with pent-up frustration. "He did the best he could."

"Ohh poo-poo for dear, ol' Daddy Dearest. I keep forgetting how he was _so_ sick and emotionally troubled," Oscar said sarcastically.

Lea reached to slap her sister across her face for the second time. Oscar allowed the blonde to reach her face this time. As soon as she heard the loud sound of flesh against flesh, she felt the red bruise as it brought a warm, buzzing sensation across her face. She couldn't repress the smile, enjoying the upsurge of emotion that thawed her icy interior. Even when she allowed Henrietta to use her skills against her, the results were hardly as effective as Lea's seemingly effortless ability to rile her up.

_Damn, I hate her. I hate my little half-sister almost as much as I feel an obsessive need to protect her from her own stupidity._

"You'd be nothing without him," Lea said. "Show some respect. Everything he built up for the two of us… We owe him our lives."

Oscar chuckled. "We owe him nothing more than our constant derision and a lovely box to put him in when he dies," she replied, venom dripping from each carefully spoken syllable. "What should I thank that man for? For forcing me to take on a business that I never asked for? For taking away my childhood? For killing my mother with his ignorance and greed, replacing her with a step-mother that can barely read without pictures to assist her and a half-sister that is continuing burden on me everyday existence?"

Lea's face turned red with anger. "Your mother died because she was sick. Father had nothing to do with it."

"So says his personal cheerleader blinded by naiveté and mental retardation." Oscar stretched her tight limbs, seemingly bored with the conversation. "There's no use discussing facts with you. You can't possibly understand."

"Why don't you try me for once?"

"No need to waste the effort," Oscar said simply. "Sister, listen to me. You have no place in the larger scheme of things. Boston is my primary concern." She returned her focus back to her endless stack of financial reports on the coffee table before her. "You've done well. But this is _my_ business."

Lea pouted. "You've made that perfectly clear throughout my entire life. No need to reinforce it now."

"You're time in the limelight is done, Lea. Go back home to Washington and _stay out of trouble_."

"Yessum, massa," Lea muttered bitterly.

Sensing her sister's indifference, Oscar took her under the chin, yanking her head around in a swirl of blonde curls. "I swear to all that's holy, Leabeth. You meddle around with this like you always do and I'll murder you."

"And earn another star to add to that beautiful body of yours?" Lea yanked her sister's shirt up to reveal the row of six black stars permanently stenciled upon her porcelain skin. Oscar made little effort to hide the scars from the younger woman.

"Mistakes should be proudly displayed for future reference so as not to commit them a second time," Oscar said mysteriously.

Oscar knew her dim-witted half-sibling wouldn't understand her words. She never did. For Lea, killing another human being was a source of pride. That fact alone was one of the many reasons why she refused the younger woman from taking a more active role in her father's business. Her temper combined with the lack of morality she felt for others frequently left Oscar scratching her head in confusion. There was no rhyme or reason to her sister's actions and that scared the older woman with the risks it presented.

Each of the stars that had been carved into her skin weren't about pride. They were constant reminders of mistakes, people that had died under her hand for the wrong reasons. The last star, the sixth one, had nearly broken her, forcing Oscar to take a spontaneous leave of absence from working more closely in the field with Bone. She had determined that it would be in the business's best interest to leave Bone to handle the trenches as a result.

To this day, Oscar wanted no part in the day to day handling of the smuggling. All of the deaths from years past – starting at the tender age of seventeen – were starting to haunt her in a way that reminded her of her mother's eventual demise. The blood on Father's hands as a result of his need to assert control over his budding cocaine empire in South America and earn more money to fuel his need to be a Latin American godfather had broken her mother's heart in far too many pieces to ever be reconnected.

The day her mother died nothing could ever be the same.

Heartbreak had forced her to grow up too fast, see things no child should ever have to see. But it gave her strong sense of morality and responsibility, something Lea would forever lack. Lea was so sheltered by everyone, including herself, that she lacked common sense. Sometimes, Oscar thought, I think she'd kill me if given the opportunity. The thought excited her but gave her an uncontrollable twinge of fear at the same time. Lea knew her weaknesses like no other given their tenuous familial connection, but the woman lacked the intelligence to put it to use.

"Lea," Oscar commanded. "I swear…go home and stay there. If I find out you've broken the one rule I have given, I will not hesitate to follow through on my promise."

"I know my place, Silvia," Lea added in the acid tone of a life-long enemy determined to overcome her nemesis. "I would never betray you."

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Jane was slowly developing a strong revulsion for Dr. Rose's office. As she sat in a comfortable chair in one of the examination rooms – more like suites of luxury, quite honestly – she couldn't stop the nervous tapping of her foot against the sepia hued hardwood floors. With Maura inside the small changing room in preparation for their mandatory sonogram to check on the health of the baby, the brunette was left completely alone with her anxieties.

When she had arrived, she had already been running late from the meet she had with Frankie and Riley to touch base with them before the holidays took everyone's attention to spirits and good friends. Maura had kept her whining to herself, choosing to let her girlfriend's lateness pass. On top of all that, Jane had to bring up all of the nervous energy that came with the baby.

I just can't stand waiting, Jane thought. Thinking, wondering, and obsessing over a developing human being's safety was beyond problematic.

"Maura?" Jane called out to the closed changing room. "Do you need help in there? It shouldn't take that long to put on a medical gown."

Maura chuckled. "There's no rush."

"If Dr. Rose comes in here and doesn't see her patient, we're going to have to reschedule. It's next to impossible to get a day that works for the both of us anyway," Jane said exasperatedly.

Sensing the frustration in her voice, Maura came out of the room clad in a paisley dressing gown. "Honey, don't be so worried. The baby is fine. A sonogram is just another step of the pregnancy."

"That's a cute print." Jane looked over the blonde's shapeless gown with a smirk. "Wouldn't that be a good color for the baby's room? I'd prefer something a little more conservative but what do you think? You know more about designer things and _feng shui_."

Maura frowned. "Paisley? For a nursery? Jane, I'm all for experimenting but paisley is little too fashion forward for any baby. Vertical stripes with a gender neutral color palette would be far more appropriate and soothing." She crossed the room to sit on the examination table. "But I really wish you'd stop changing topics on me. It's incredibly rude."

"Sorry," Jane said, taking a parenting magazine off the table.

"A baby takes time, honey."

"What?" Jane asked, looking up from the magazine in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Maura smiled knowingly. "We all know patience isn't your strong suit. You want the baby to be here, right now, so you can actually see what you have to protect."

Jane gave her a startled look, surprised that the woman knew her so well. "I just…want to be able to feel a connection with him or her. You have the baby with you all the time. Every little twitch or motion is right there for you to experience and, well, I wish I had that opportunity to feel our child…becoming, if that's the right word," she said bashfully, allowing her tearful eyes to connect with Maura's comforting hazel orbs.

"So you want to have to deal with the constant feeling of being perilously close to peeing all over your Marc Jacobs linen pants?"

"No, smart-ass," Jane added jokingly. "I want a _connection _with the baby. You're in the second trimester now. The baby is going to start doing all of that stuff that parents go all goo-goo-gaga over in those TLC baby documentaries. How can I have that when the baby is in you and I can't do anything but watch? Jesus Christ, I sound like such an idiot…"

Maura got up from the table and grasped Jane's trembling hands. An encouraging smile graced her lips. "Don't be such a self-defeatist. Talking to me is a lot better than holding it up inside. We're having a baby together. Just because our child is in me, doesn't exclude you from the process of bonding with him or her. If anyone should be jealous, it's me. Our child will always look at you and see the same similar bone structure that can only be associated with a biological relationship. I will never be able to have that no matter how much I love the baby. You don't see me whining though."

"So you think I'm whining?" Jane pouted.

"Yes, I do."

Jane sighed miserably. "You always make me turn into such a girl about things since I started going out with you."

"With change come emotions we might be unprepared to feel." Maura took Jane's left hand with her own, holding their two rings up to the light. "We're in this together which means you can talk to me about anything. No matter how stupid you think it might be. Remember that time I asked you what was the difference between a Swiss Roll and a Ding-Dong? That was pretty stupid but you didn't laugh…at least, not to my face." She made a pouting face. "I heard you outside with Jo laughing your gluteus maximus off."

"Do you hear yourself?"

Maura tilted her head adorably. "What do you mean?"

"When have you heard anyone say, 'laughing your gluteus maximus off'?"

"Well, I just said it so…right now," Maura replied innocently.

The sound of knocking on the examination room's door followed by Dr. Rose's familiar maternal expression coming into to greet the two women, interrupting Jane's clever response. Behind the woman, a young nurse followed behind the doctor's heels. She politely nodded at the couple. Dr. Rose smiled as the nurse began to set up the sonogram equipment. "And how are my two newest mommies doing? Ready to start the big reveal?"

Jane cradled Maura's hand. "I've been ready. It's time to see what this little tike is doing in my wife's uterus."

"Good for you," Dr. Rose said. "Any changes in your health since last time, Maura?"

Maura shook her head. She gave Jane a quick kiss on the lips before heading back to the examination table to be prepared for the sonogram. "No changes. The medicine has been doing wonders for all of my issues with the sickness and the sexual impulses. They've pretty much cleared up, thank god."

"I'd have to agree," Jane said. "Not having to get up in the middle of the night for a chocolate taco with sprinkles and a cherry banana Icee only sold in one gas station in Dorchester is so much better for my already screwed up sleep schedule."

Dr. Rose turned back to Jane with her maternal smile. "And I presume your symptoms are clearing up as well?"

"Yeah…pretty much." Jane watched the doctor as she carefully lifted Maura's gown to provide access to her swollen stomach. The blonde was showing fairly well at this point. "I think it might be time to buy maternal clothes the way she's blowing up."

"It's around the four month mark so that's about right. Do you need help finding stores that fit your fashion needs? In all of my years as an OB/GYN, I've heard so many designers and stores regarding maternity wear that I can recite them upon memory," Dr. Rose mused. She took the tube of jelly from the nurse waiting beside the turned on sonogram equipment. "Now, Maura, I've got to warn you. This is cold. We try to warm it up for the mommies but heat turns it-"

Maura interrupted with a smile, "Into a liquid. The heating properties are fairly low despite the original consistency. I never got into OB/GYN studies when in my residency, but I knew one of my old associates would always complain about the jelly's lack of warmth for patients." She shivered slightly as the cold jelly hit her stomach. "I'm fine."

"Just another example of how medical technology frequently lacks a human touch for the benefits of efficiency." Dr. Rose signaled to her nurse to keep a detailed report on her iPad. "We're about to start, Maura. Any requests beforehand?"

Maura looked over at Jane's worried face across the room, hidden in darkness. "I want Jane to come closer if that would be alright."

Jane stood up to race toward the blonde. She was beyond grateful that Maura had managed to ask the question. The detective was completely numb, anxiety overwhelming her senses.

"This is the most cutting edge sonogram equipment," Dr. Rose explained. "It features a 4-D modeling system to see the new baby in beautiful high-definition clarity. Maura insisted on using in over the typical equipment."

Jane rolled her eyes. "Typical."

The doctor chuckled slightly. Her sonogram device began moving across the jelly on Maura's stomach, spreading it around as a 3- D image began to show on the screen next to them. Jane offered her hand to her girlfriend which she took gratefully, both of their eyes on the sonogram screen before them.

Silence covered the small examination room as Dr. Rose looked for the baby forming in Maura's uterus. God, what's taking her so long, Jane thought angrily.

"And there you are," Dr. Rose exclaimed with a smile. "I was wondering when you'd show up in there."

Jane perked up. She clenched Maura's hand that much tighter. "What? What are we looking at?"

On the screen, the limbs and flesh began to show up. Both Jane and Maura looked absolutely speechless.

"It looks so human," Jane whispered stupidly. "Is that like a third arm?"

Dr. Rose looked from the screen to the detective with a smile. "What are you looking at?"

"That thing right there. It looks exactly like a hand."

The nurse looked at the image and began to laugh. Dr. Rose also joined in, leaving Jane feeling out of place.

"That's not an arm, Jane. It's a-"

"Penis. That's a penis," Maura interrupted dreamily. She gave Jane a blank look. "Oh my god…we're having a little baby boy?"

Jane continued to stare at the screen blankly. "A boy? We're having…a boy? A baby boy…"

"Well," Dr. Rose said cheerfully. "Isn't this a lovely surprise for Christmas? I hope you have names picked out."

Jane felt the smile beginning to form across her face. The small little fetus seemed to make a small welcoming gesture toward his two mothers. Despite not being genetically related to Maura, she thought there was something familiar to the blonde in the baby features still shaping themselves. Seeing their child for the first time, the detective could feel the tickling sensation of tears threatening to spill upon her cheeks.

It had been far too long since she had cried…

"Welcome to the family, little guy," Jane said. "We've been waiting on you to show up."

-***-***- End Part 2 -***-***-


	27. Chapter 27

-/-/-Chapter 27-/-/-

"Being pregnant sucks," Maura whispered after hitting her foot on the autopsy table for the sixth time that day. The various interns she had brought in from BCU's pre-med program looked up in varying states of amusement before turning back to their autopsies.

Six months into the pregnancy, Maura was finding it difficult to walk without wobbling around like a toddler, nonetheless manage an autopsy on her own. She would never admit it to anyone except Jane, but one of the main reasons she had accepted bringing BCU interns into the morgue was because they provided her with a much needed pair of hands, unencumbered by a growing baby cutting their balance in half.

Pike had gone back to his pretentious man-cave in Worcester with a promise to come back for the final interviews that were needed to find an adequate replacement for her during her maternity leave coming up in the next couple of weeks. Maura wished she hadn't wasted so much time in picking candidates, but no one was proving to be quite right. Everyone was either looking to extend the position into a more long-term commitment or as a resume-builder without understanding the work involved.

As time ran out, Maura had begun to accept the obvious. Pike was looking like the best – and only – choice for the temporary position. But the last thing she wanted to do was be stuck with Pretentious Pike bringing BPD to a halt during her absence. She had to find someone, anyone who could fit the bill. Even Suzy was looking like a viable option.

And that was just work. With the baby, even the simplest actions were ten times more difficult. Finding scrubs that could actually fit comfortably around her enlarged stomach was like trying to find vegetation in the Sahara. Her sexy heels and tight-fitting clothes had been put in storage in exchange for flats and maternity dresses. At least the flats and maternity dresses were fashionable given her insistence on buying everything from top of the line boutiques.

"Oww!" Maura exclaimed. Her voice echoed loudly against the concrete walls of the underground autopsy room. "If I hit my foot one more time…"

With each passing day, Maura began to look forward to the doom-and-gloom of maternity leave. The love she gained from using her cauldron of knowledge every day to help catch bad guys couldn't compare to the subtle pain that came with the realization that the baby was slowly making it impossible to perform her daily responsibilities. If staying at home all day, knitting, and employing retail therapy in preparation for labor meant she wouldn't have to hit body parts she couldn't even see without turning her head in odd angles, then she was officially on board.

I can take the laughter from my techs every time I waddle into a room wearing Crocs instead of my $800 Miu Mius, but sitting down to do something as basic as a Y-incision is ridiculous, Maura thought sheepishly.

Unexpectedly, the distracted medical examiner heard the sound of knocking coming from the door. She struggled to turn with an aggravated smile, hating to go through the effort of moving her entire body, "Come in."

"Jane asked me to check up on you," Angela said, her characteristic friendliness a much needed distraction for the exhausted blonde. The older woman crossed the room with a wave before her eyes caught the attention of a whitened body lacking, oddly enough, a head. Angela cringed in disgust, returning her attention back to the blushing medical examiner moving to cover the body for modesty. "You know how she worries about the baby."

Maura chuckled. "Has she told you?"

"Told me what?"

"She's taken to talking to him. The baby, I mean."

"And does he like it?"

"You mean does he respond to her voice?" Maura rolled her eyes with a smile. Her skillful hands finished up the last couple of stitches on another victim while her team of interns watched with eager eyes. "Of course. The baby gets so excited, kicking and moving every time she says something. Sometimes I have to tell the little man to quit it Mommy Maura can get some much needed rest."

Angela laughed, nodding in understanding. Being pregnant with Jane hadn't been easy either. Baby Jane used to kick up a storm unless she played old Creedence Clearwater Revival and Johnny Cash vinyl records. At first it had been an adorable quirk but, after the fiftieth time listening to "Ring of Fire" and "Bad Moon Rising", Angela and Frankie Sr. ceased to find their unborn daughter's musical requirements adorable.

Twiddling with an old leather-bound book in her hand, Angela awkwardly stared at the busy medical examiner. Maura was casually explaining to her intern the importance of seeing the body as a patient instead of a simple piece of a puzzle while showing another the correct technique of suturing several gashes on a corpse that died during an unlucky car accident. A piece of hair managed to work itself out of the tight braid, but Maura hardly noticed the sliver of light golden lock bouncing in her eyes with each relaxed breath she took, completely focused on making multitasking look easy.

As Maura finished, Angela resumed the conversation with a maternal smile, "I hope you don't mind me coming in unannounced. I called but your cell must have been off."

Maura looked up, a blush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. "Darn it, I must have left it in my office. I'm so sorry, Angela. Lately, I've been so…distracted about some of my responsibilities."

"I was the same way during my pregnancy. It'll get better."

Maura made a sound of disbelief. "Yeah, only when this little guy decides it's time for him to grace us with his long-awaited presence." She handed her remaining medical yarn to the intern to finish up the sutures and made her way back to her office, Angela right on her heels. "Jane's probably freaking out about me not answering. Did she sound alright when she called you? I hate stressing her out when she's working."

Angela helped Maura sit down in her chair. "Same as usual. My daughter is so busy with that federal operation thing…I can't stand it when she gets like this."

Maura laughed, "You mean focused? Self-centered? Determined?"

"Exactly," Angela agreed with a nod. "How is she, anyway? I haven't seen her since we went baby shopping with Lydia last weekend. Or maybe it was last weekend…?"

"She's not as stressed as she used to be. Frankie and Riley are doing a good job from what I've heard. Jane would never admit it, but she's proud of them for making things work as well as they have." Maura leaned back in her chair and released an exhausted sigh. "I told her to stop by the baby store on Newberry to make a final decision about the furniture for the nursery," she said, motioning to Angela's tattered book sticking out of her apron pocket. "Trying out new recipes for the café, I see?"

Angela followed Maura's finger. She carefully grabbed the small, leather-bound book out of her pocket with a smile. "Oh no, not quite. This is for you and Jane. It's for the baby."

Hearing the unusual tone in Angela's voice, Maura opened her eyes, tilting her head in confusion. "I don't understand…"

"Jane hasn't told you? Well, no matter. This book contains every name for those born in our family. It goes all the way back to our Italian forefathers." Angela clapped her hands enthusiastically. "I just can't wait to spread the tradition to my grandson. He's going to get the full Rizzoli family treatment. Knowing Frankie, this will be the last chance. Frankie is as allergic to commitment as his big sister used to be."

Maura frowned. On top of all of the physical issues that came with the pregnancy, now she had all of the various Rizzoli traditions to deal with. Great…just fabulous, she thought.

-/-/-/-/-/-

Across town, Jane was dealing with her own difficulties regarding the nursery furniture Maura had narrowed down. She wandered around the quiet furniture store on Newberry Street, carefully assessing each collection of furniture set up around the intimate space of the boutique. The identical shades of varying walnuts, hazelnuts, and sepias were meshing together into one solid mass of impression in her mind. All she wanted to do was take a nap…but she had work to do. This wasn't just a torturous visit to pick out stuff for the nursery.

Frost sidled up next to the detective, barely making a sound. "I took a look around."

"And?" Jane asked. Her attention was focused on yet another furniture set marked with high importance by Maura in her curlicue cursive. It was obvious that she thought this was the one to buy for the new room.

"Besides a door leading to the street, everything is secure with the entrances and exits. Dean's guys are already on a close watch so the odds of unexpected visitors coming in to interrupt our meet with Frankie and Riley are slim," Frost said. "You care to share why we're having a meet in Boston's premier nursery boutique on Newberry Street?"

"Two birds with one stone, Frost." Jane leaned down to touch the sturdy legs of the simple style of the honey hued wooden crib. "Maura has been on my ass for the last three weeks to make a final decision on the furniture for the baby. Bringing you along brings a male perspective into the mix. So…you like this one?"

Frost appraised the furniture set with a calculating gaze. "It suits you."

"Does it suit a little boy though?" Jane asked anxiously. "If you were a baby, would you like to sleep in this room?"

"If I was a baby, Jane, I wouldn't care less as long as I have my mother to give me milk and warmth."

Jane smirked. "I don't even know why I asked you." She stood up to give one last at the craftsmanship of each individual piece in the collection. The price tags dangled next to each item, daring her to look over the prices that would surely bring tears to her eyes. Jane chose to ignore them the temptation to focus on imagining her son's future bedroom. "But you're right. It does suit me. And, more importantly, Maura loves it. Looks like this is the one."

"I can't believe she's actually letting you make the final decision on this. With your fashion sense, what's stopping you from coming home with boxes full of the cheapest set you could find?"

Ordinarily Frost would have been right, considering her lack of desire to look at anything design related, especially when it came to Maura's expensive tastes. Jane was much happier taking a back seat with the differences between mauve and lavender.

However, in an act of goodwill and compromise, Maura had decided to give the final authority of constructing the nursery up to Jane while she handled the accessories and clothes. As much as Jane wanted to complain, she knew the alternative was buying breast pumps, cloth diapers, and onesies, to name just a few of the nonsensical items. Knowing Maura, everything would be crazy expensive, custom tailored, and with a healthy sprinkling of monogramming and bedazzlement. Anything, even putting together furniture like she was an understudy for Geppetto, had to be better than that sort of cruel punishment.

Jane stupidly hoped their son would like the nursery furniture. She knew he was just a baby with little understanding of likes or dislikes regarding the fine art of design, but each day that brought them closer to the birth brought more pressure on the both of them to make things perfect for their unborn son.

With a comforting smile, Frost gave his partner a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "He'll love it, Jane. Any kid would be lucky to have two awesome parents like you and Maura. That's what matters, not some stupid furniture collection." He raised an eyebrow in realization of his words. "You know…I didn't mean any offense to Maura. Don't tell her I said that."

Before Jane could respond, a pleasant man unobtrusively inserted himself in the conversation with a smile. Given his conservative yet flashy attire, she immediately felt the stirrings of a comeback of the Queen of the Queens, the man that had done her fitting with Maura during their coming out party. God, even the memory made her gag in disgust…

"You must be Jane Rizzoli, the girlfriend. Maura called to let us know you were coming by to make a purchase."

"How much for this one?" Jane asked, avoiding the man with a slight frown.

The assistant beamed, taking out a small notepad. "The Macchiato collection…beautiful choice, ma'am. We just got it in so you can be assured your newborn will be on the cutting edge of fashionable nurseries. I'm assuming you will be looking at the entire collection. With the tax, delivery, and set-up charges-"

"Set up isn't necessary. And, please, don't call me ma'am," Jane interrupted.

With a chuckle, he nodded in the process of typing out several numbers on his pocket calculator. "Of course, _miss_. My mistake for associating you with our over 40 customers. Minus the set-up fee…the price comes to $8024.68 for the entire collection."

Jane sighed with a knowing smile. Leave it to Maura to pick out the most expensive collection in the entire boutique. The baby wasn't even going to be using it for that long. Each time Jane went shopping with Maura was a surprise concerning the paycheck. She didn't even know a person could spend that much on baby furniture. Her ma had gotten most of her three kids' stuff from the family or Salvation Army, the most she had ever spent on was a couple of hundred on a new mattress.

"We'll take it," Jane said reluctantly. "Maura gave you her credit card information, right?"

"It's already been taken care of, Miss Rizzoli. Constance Isles called to let us know that she'd be paying the bill on your behalf."

Jane coughed in shock. "What? Constance is paying? Umm…well, okay. Are you sure she said that?"

The assistant nodded. "Yes, miss."

Out of the corner of her eye, Jane noticed Frankie and Riley coming into the store. Unlike months passed, the two seemed moderately friendly toward each other. The relaxed air surrounding them put Jane at ease. Relaxed meant confident, working undercover this long required a healthy dose of confidence in both yourself and your partner in order to survive.

Hopefully they can keep this up, Jane thought. Since starting the operation into Cisco's drug smuggling Bone was proving to be a difficult opponent to grasp. She hardly expected any different from a man who allegedly had control over drug trafficking and production routes from Los Angeles, California to Shanghai, China.

After Riley's recent good work with building his trust in her, Frankie had been able to find the jammer, place a reader on the device, and, with the information they had gained, drop several bugs around the condo, providing the team with much needed intel concerning Cisco. Everything was going according to plan. But Jane knew that they were going to need several more pieces of the puzzle to make any charges in the legal arena stick. Eric had been none too subtle about their current lack of a case. He was obviously right but being right didn't make Jane feel less annoyed.

With a familiar smile, Frankie strolled up to his two superiors. Riley followed beside the excited officer, keeping a close watch on any potential interlopers with the bored gaze of her character.

"Care to ask why we're meeting in a nursery store, Detective?" Frankie asked.

"'Fraid of a few pregnant women?" Jane asked jokingly, keeping her eyes away from the undercover cop. Given the chaos of the last couple of months, she had yet to inform her brother of the changes developing back in the real world. Frankie was still completely clueless regarding Maura's pregnancy. Eventually the time would come to inform him but now wasn't the time.

"Just seems odd, is all."

"Which means Cisco won't find you hanging out with us." Jane began to walk toward a set of nursery furniture in an isolated corner of the boutique, sparsely filled with parents in various stages of parenthood. Two men stood near a particularly conservative looking collection as they whispered back and forth about whether they should wait till the adoption was completely finalized before buying. Frost followed while Frankie and Riley maintained their cover by keeping a small distance from the two.

"We have a date," Riley said.

"He's been keeping you busy. This is the fifth date in the last two weeks."

Frankie crossed his arms as he checked out the price of a wooden changing station. "Those bugs you gave us are working?"

"Working like a charm. The signal is loud and clear. FBI is keeping a twenty-four/seven visual and auditory watch over the place to catch something we can work with," Frost explained casually. "But there have been some issues."

Riley furrowed her eyebrows, frowning. "Such as?"

"The bugs have a limited range," Jane said. "Since we only have a couple in the condo, mostly in public areas, we've got nothing in terms of hard evidence. Whether he's purposefully avoiding us or something else entirely, doesn't matter. At the end of the day, we need something more to make a move with."

Frankie released a heavy sigh. "The feds have those hard drive copiers. Give me one of those via Korsak and I'm sure I can get something concrete-"

Jane quickly stole a punishing glare at her overeager brother, interrupting him. "You're a _team_, Frankie. You keep using singular pronouns as if Riley doesn't exist." She sighed heavily. "The last thing we need is two UCs in a hostage situation because one of them felt like taking an unnecessary risk to show off. Not to mention getting you anywhere near that jammer to hack it would be crazy and reckless."

"This isn't an 'unnecessary risk', Jane. I can _do_ this."

In frustration, Jane ran her hand through her tangled hair. She sensed his determination but knew that determination meant little without the experience to back it up. Frankie had proven his worth over the last couple of months. He was stepping up to the plate like the detective she knew he would become in time. But the young officer was still just a wet-behind-the-ears wannabe. Frankie couldn't handle creeping around in off-limits areas, hacking a computer system without backup, and getting out without arising suspicion in less than thirty minutes. Risking her brother and Riley's life, not to mention the operation to bring Cisco down, over Frankie's desire to show his self-worth to the team was far too much of a chance.

"Until we go through every option, I want to stay conservative," Jane said, hating how hypocritical it sounded. If it was her, she would have taken the chance without a second thought but because it was Frankie…she just couldn't bear to take the risk.

_He's not me and he never will be. I can't expect him to follow in my footsteps in everything I do._

Frankie turned toward Frost. "Where's my sister? Cause I know this woman ain't her," he said bitterly.

"Don't make me have to pull rank, Frankie," Jane growled.

Before they could get riled up, however, Riley quickly interjected. "Frankie, c'mon. Listen to how you sound. This isn't your sister you're talking to. Jane's the boss. She has the benefit of perspective. If she nixes a more aggressive action then we go with it," she said, attempting to cool off the two hot heads. "A detective has to have discipline. Fighting with a superior officer hardly denotes discipline, Frankie."

As the two Rizzolis processed the wise words, Frost stepped forward to hand her a small box. "Here are two more bugs to place. Dean wants you to try placing them in areas that could extend our information range."

"Like his office?"

Frost nodded. "Exactly. From the intel coming in, we're confident that Bone is getting ready to make a move on cornering the Boston underground drug market. There's some information coming in from local drug units but, so far, they've been pretty inconclusive."

Jane turned her attention away from her brother to Riley. "The fed boys can't push too hard on local authorities without revealing our hand to those who don't need to be in the loop."

"Until we get more information, we'll move cautiously," Frankie said reluctantly. "Is there something else?"

"Good job with Bone so far," Jane replied. "We're close, I can feel it. He's gonna make a fatal error and we'll be right there to catch him while he falls."

Riley smiled as they headed toward the door, maintaining their cover as two parties interested in the same nursery items. With a smile, Frost opened the door and Frankie turned to give his sister a suspicious look.

"You still haven't said what's up with the nursery stuff," Frankie said, his usual joking tone back in place. "TJ's gotta be at least a year old by now. He can't seriously need all of that stuff."

"It's not for TJ."

"Then who is it for?"

"For me and Maura."

Before Frankie could process her words, Riley gave the brunette a knowing smile. "Congratulations. How far along are you?"

Jane shrugged. "Six months now."

"Damn… It must be Maura since you're still a dead ringer for Adriana Lima."

Jane rolled her eyes in amusement. "Yeah right. I don't look like Adriana Lima. She's a model and I am a detective. Maura is scheduled to take leave soon," she said. "God knows we're both looking forward to her being off her feet for a little bit."

"Already? She must be as a big as a house."

Frankie coughed loudly for attention. "Who's big? And why is Maura taking leave? Is she alright?"

Jane furrowed her eyebrows. In the back of her mind, she weighed the pros and cons of telling Frankie. Despite wanting to wait, there was little point now that Riley had used her investigative skills to put two and two together. Not telling him would be a blow to self-confidence, exactly what he didn't need to happen. Jane sighed, knowing there wasn't much of a decision to make. She had to tell him.

"Maura's pregnant, Frankie. With our child."

"Our…child?" Frankie mumbled, visibly shocked.

"Maura and I are having a child. She's about six months along."

"And…sex?"

Jane smiled. "A little boy. Maura's stuck on naming him Constantine, but we're going to have to have a talk about that. No way am I going to call my son that."

"Oh…my…god…" Frankie whispered. "I'm going to be…"

"An uncle," Jane finished. "Congratulations, little brother."


	28. Chapter 28

-/-/-Chapter 28-/-/-

Clad in her most comfortable acid-washed jeans used exclusively for working around the house, Jane wiped sweat from her brow as she took one more final look at the amount of work that still needed to be accomplished. The walls were covered in a vertical pattern of equal stripes around the room, each strip of warm orange blending into the relaxing sea blue strip creating an equal boundary between each ribbon of fire. With an exhausted exhale, Jane turned her attention to the various cardboard boxes of the nursery collection bought several days ago situated around the room in unobtrusive positions, all in varying steps of being opened.

Jane had finally managed to move all of the boxes – while Maura dictated her and the movers like Mussolini – upstairs to the nursery, carefully making sure the boxes weren't in the way of Constance's space as the older woman painted the walls. She didn't have much help given Frost being busy with his mother's wedding plans but, lo and behold, fate had decided to play a cruel joke. Maura had called her longtime boyfriend and gardener Elias to come provide assistance and, sadly, he had gladly jumped at the opportunity.

Having Elias help with any part of the baby process was certainly not her on her top ten list of enjoyable scenarios, but the man had actually had been relatively productive…until Maura started bringing out baby catalogues. As was expected, Elias slowly drifted more to the discussion on fabric choices and less on how to lift the mattress up the narrow stairs. Finally, in disgust, Jane had to tell him to just stay outside and pour iced green tea for the pregnant blonde so as not to ruin his designer chinos and top-of-the-line sneakers.

_Why I thought he would actually be helpful, I have no idea._

Jane cringed at the echoing lilt of Elias's deep, masculine laugh coming from the open bay window facing the backyard where he and Maura were talking about baby clothes. The curtains fluttered slightly in the spring breeze, releasing warm flowery fragrances into the cluttered nursery.

If it had been up to her, she would have left the windows closed, but Maura and Constance had insisted on allowing the paint smell to flush out of the room. Given the fact that the blonde's mother was painting the nursery as yet another far too generous gift, she had submitted without much complaint but hearing Elias's voice just added to her frustration.

All of the memories from her past relationship with the man reminded her just how much she used to hate Elias. The two of them had had their share of history, much of it against her will. From his contribution in her finally being able to declare her love for Maura to the irrational jealousy that had developed upon learning the two had become fast friends, Jane found the memories to be increasingly traumatic every time she was forced to recall them.

But that was the past. After his last incident, Elias had become a consummate gentleman, extending heartfelt pleasantries to the both of them. His decision to follow his dreams as a florist was proving to be a great decision; the business was doing so well, he had had to open two more stores across Boston to branch out into the burgeoning landscaping market. Extra work gave the red-haired man an air of maturity that made him both beautiful inside and out. His newly found maturity deemphasized his cocky attitude developed from years of being a pilot in the USAF.

_But it's like spraying air freshener on a pile of shit. Elias is still a cocky sonovabitch, just not as often._

From the patio outside, Maura giggled like a small child. "You're such a clown, Eli."

"What?" Elias asked. "I'm totally serious. My father had me custom fitted for a suit by the time I was six months."

"Because it was a dress uniform for the military. Our baby is not going to be in a military program for ignored, unloved little boys."

"Hey, you never know. He might like being molded at an early age." Elias made a snort of sarcastic disbelief. "God knows I didn't."

Maura guffawed. "How are you ever going to find a woman with that kind of self-effacing attitude?"

"Women like self-effacing men with cooking skills and a marvelous investment portfolio."

"Then what happened to Mandy? You know, that colleague I hooked you up with last fall?" Maura asked, hinting at a smile.

Elias pouted melodramatically, taking a sip of his iced tea. "She thought I was gay. That's a major buzz-kill. The whole lunch date I had to assure her that I'm not a captain of the butt pirate frigate. I'm still in shock remembering when she told me that I was in the closet and shouldn't be afraid 'to come out with ribbed condoms in hand.' And did I mention that annoying Texan drawl thing? That twanging cackle nearly made me want to order a Scotch…before happy hour."

Jane smiled at the sound of the two friends discussing gossip like life-long buddies. The only reason she tolerated the man was because of the friendship Maura shared with him. No point enduring the pain of Maura's hellfire for her own personal pride.

Another one of our compromises, I suppose, Jane mused.

"That Elias is a quite a character," Constance said, interrupting Jane's thoughts. "Such a handsome, young man. If I didn't have William, I could see chatting him up." She made a bashful face more commonly seen on her daughter. "That is what young people still say? Chatting up?"

Jane smiled. "Of course, Constance. People still say that. But I'm not sure your husband would appreciate hearing that."

"William and I have been together so long, he wouldn't even take it as an insult."

"How long have you two been together, anyway?" Jane asked.

Constance made her way toward the white plastic tarp in the middle of the unbelievably plush grey carpet, carefully setting the gallons of paint down with hardly a ripple of turbulence in the heavy colored fluid. The older woman looked up at her finished work with a pleased smile of approval.

Only one blank wall remained, waiting patiently for Constance to use her artistic prowess for the final finishing touches. Unbeknownst to Maura, Jane had asked her mother to do a mural for the baby. She trusted Constance to handle the project but hoped the blonde didn't go all Momzilla on them when she saw it. With the crazy hormones and her careful nature, Maura had become increasingly more anal with any details regarding their son.

Constance looked back at Jane with a smile. "Far too long, dear," she said, smiling as if she made a private joke. "I hope my music hasn't been getting on your nerves. 'Nessun Dorma' has always been a dear muse of mine."

Jane laughed. "I've heard worse from your daughter's – how should I say it? – eclectic music choices. She's been listening to Balmorhea and Samantha James nonstop." She turned slightly toward the sound of male laughter and the accompanying sounds of Jo Friday enjoying the warm, spring temperature by playing with her partner in crime, Bass. Given the amount of barks, Bass was clearly winning the game of tag. "The room looks great by the way. We really appreciate you helping us out like this. The price quote for painting the room the way she wanted was just ridiculous."

"Oh, I don't mind. I rarely have a chance to use traditional mediums anymore. Modern art is all about experimental materials and display methods." Constance sighed, retying the long, colorful scarf across the waist of her painter's overalls. "Sometimes I miss the days before Pollock and Warhol became oh-so-chic."

Unable to respond, Jane made her way toward the numerous boxes littering the room. She was dreading the amount of time it would take to assemble everything. Unlike Maura, she didn't have the option of taking maternity leave and leaving Dean in charge of the undercover operation. Cisco was her affair. It was beyond time to settle the past debts she had accrued.

_Maybe my father could come by and help put it together? But why would I want that selfish, backstabbing scum anywhere near my home with Maura and the baby?_

The man had been afraid to show his face around town since the whole business with trying to annul their marriage and the Lydia fiasco. But he had always proven to be reliable before. One mistake – actually, more close to two or three – couldn't break the fact that he was still her one and only father. I have to forgive and forget…eventually, Jane thought, cringing slightly at the thought.

Jane shook her head, breaking away from the troublesome image of her father coming back into her life. She refocused on the current matter of getting the furniture set-up before Maura decided to come up and see the room. The walls were still in the process of drying so making any final adjustments were out of the question, but she was determined to not waste one of her few days off.

Time flew by much faster than she had expected. Jane had just managed to finish connecting the various pieces of the crib – the instructions were written in plain English, thank god – when Constance looked over her shoulder. The older woman stepped back from her work, glad to be finished.

"It's finished." Constance grinned. "Do you think Maura will like it? I went a little overboard with the cuteness factor."

Jane looked over at the finished mural and her jaw nearly dropped to the floor in shock. On the wall, a whimsical tree blowing in the wind was crawling with adorable baby animals giving various expressions to garner a smile from even coldest of individuals. Lions, tigers, bears, owls, and even a foal played amongst themselves in the cartoonish landscape. Even she was wanted to release a girlish giggle in response to the colorful array of greens, blues, pinks, and yellows.

"It's beautiful, really," Jane said breathlessly, in awe of the woman's skills with paint. She stood up to give the mural a closer look. It was even better up close. "Maura's gonna love it."

"Are you sure? I used translucent, glow-in-the-dark stars that twinkle in low light." Constance smiled maternally as she remembered something from her past. "Maura used to love watching the stars at night. It always soothed her to sleep like nothing else," she said awkwardly, not used to sharing with the detective.

Jane raised an eyebrow in shock but quickly recovered. It was highly unusual for the sophisticated older woman to share anything covering the veneer of perfection that Constance wore at all times. Lately, however, she had been opening herself up gradually to make the Rizzolis feels welcome. "The baby will be just as grateful for this as we are," she said. "I see why people pay you the big bucks to super-glue plastic bottles on a platform and call it art."

"I'm sorry?" Constance asked, cocking her head in confusion.

"It's a joke, Constance."

Constance smiled with a slight blush. "Oh, of course, obviously. That Boston humor of yours is so hard to grasp."

Jane smirked. She heard Maura and Elias coming in from the afternoon light descending upon the patio, their laughter enlivening the house with bright energy. "Do you mind if I call Maura up? It'll probably take her minute since she's taken to waddling."

Constance nodded, leaving Jane to head downstairs to intercept the blonde and her male friend before they sat down. Once Maura sat down, it was next to impossible to get her back up without your ears burning in response to the vivid language thrown in your direction for making her get back up on her tired feet.

In a rush, Jane nearly ran over Elias in the living room in her rush to get her girlfriend's attention. "Hey, Maura! Come up and look at the nursery. Constance and I have really gotten it looking topnotch," she said excitedly.

"Jane, I really wish you would run down the stairs like that. You'll hurt yourself," Maura chastised, taking Elias's offered hand to help her up the stairs. "I can't afford to have you break a leg and be out of commission for several months. This little guy isn't going to wait until you feel better to grant us with his presence."

Jane gave Elias a disapproving frown. Tolerating the red-haired man didn't include physical contact between him and her girlfriend. Elias quickly noticed her expression and released his hold from Maura's hand, choosing to guide the semi-waddling blonde up the stairs with mental encouragement.

As they made their way up the stairs – Elias making sure to keep his distance from the two out of respect – Jane couldn't retain her excitement. She couldn't wait to see Maura's face upon seeing her mother standing before the mural and the amount of work she had managed to accomplish.

"You're going to love it," Jane repeated for the fourth time. She extended a hand toward the closed door of the nursery.

Elias furrowed an eyebrow. "You sure you want me to be here for this? I can always head back to the shop…"

"No way," Jane said, shaking her head emphatically. "As much as I hate to admit it, I need a man."

"You need a _man_?"

Jane sighed. "Not _a_ man. I need a man's perspective."

"Then why don't you ask your partner? What's his name? Harry Ice?"

"Who the hell is Harry Ice?"

"The guy you hang out with?"

Jane nodded after a brief moment of thought. "It's Detective _Barry Frost_. How'd you get from that to whatever nonsense you just threw out?"

Elias shrugged. "They sound alike."

"Sure they do, Ronald MacDonald," Jane said sarcastically. From their first meeting, she had given Elias the nickname as a private joke. The detective would always laugh at the image of the masculine Adonis that was Elias wearing pancake makeup, canary yellow jumpsuit, and stupid red clown shoes.

Elias smirked. "Sticks and stones…"

"Maybe I should move to dynamite and boulders then," Jane muttered.

But before the two could rile the argument up even further, Maura pushed between them with an exaggerated eye roll. She had little patience for Jane and Elias's back and forth nonsense. "I swear…having a competition over me is not necessary. I'm pregnant for godsakes." She opened the door, revealing freshly painted room complete with the half-finished baby furniture. Constance's warm, welcoming smile to her pregnant daughter almost brought tears to Jane's eyes, Elias soon a forgotten memory.

Maura stepped forward toward her mother, completely speechless. Jane followed and placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder. "So…do you like it?"

"You all did this for me?" Maura asked in a whisper.

Jane smiled. "No," she said. "We did this for us. The baby, you, and I. You told me what you wanted for the nursery and I did my best to make it happen." The detective motioned toward Constance. "Constance did most of the hard work with figuring out how to make the colors work with the design. And this mural was her idea."

"I thought it would be a good surprise," Constance said. She took a cautious step toward the couple. "Your father has always been the king of good gifts. I, on the other hand, have always been a little out of the loop when it comes to things like that, things that show those I love how much they mean to me. It's about time I change that for my grandson…and my daughter."

Jane could barely resist the desire to spit out a clever retort about where was she when Maura was growing up and needed her the most to protect the blonde from the pain that seemed to always come from Constance's arrival in their lives. There had been some good times lately that came immediately to mind. The announcement party held at Maura's childhood home turned out perfectly and how understanding the older woman had been during Clementine's death had been great experiences but, sadly, they were the exception not the rule when it came to Constance.

Maura appraised the mural with a critical eye. "Mother…you didn't have to do this. To expect you to make an original painting for the baby is too much. Please, let us pay you-"

"Whoa there," Jane interrupted. She grabbed Maura by the arms, forcing her attention to focus strictly on the passionate brunette before her. "Maura, honey, Constance isn't doing this to promote her art. Our home isn't an art gallery and our son isn't a curator."

"Well, I know that…"

Jane shushed the blonde. "You're always telling me that art is a form of self-expression. A mirror to the heart and all that bullshit feel-good nonsense. So what do you think Constance is trying to tell you in this mural?"

Silence weighed heavily over the group as Maura gazed at the mural of cartoonish characters. After a brief moment, a small shocked cry echoed across the room as the blonde began to shudder, drops of realization spilling from her watery eyes.

"Mother…thank you…," Maura babbled in between heaving breaths. "I love you too."

Jane watched with a pleased smile as Constance embraced her daughter, soothing away her tears. Elias strolled up to Jane with a smirk. "So beautiful to see mothers and daughters have such a feel-good moment. All of this loving energy is infectious. You know, maybe we should hug?"

"The day I hug you, is the day I give up on life."

Elias was unperturbed. "Why are you always such a bitch to me?"

Jane smirked. "And why are _you_ always here?"

Ignoring Elias's inevitable complaint, Jane stepped forward to assist Maura in cleaning her face with a clean corner of her shirt. The blonde shuddered for a second time, releasing another deluge of snot, tears, and whimpers of crying before finally assisting her with cleaning up her face.

"Sorry, Constance. Those damn hormones must be acting up again." Jane sighed. She gave Maura a sympathetic smile. "I can assure you she isn't unhappy."

"It's alright," Constance replied. Despite her lack of experience, she understood the dilemmas of pregnancy.

Maura nodded. "All of this prolactin is causing havoc on my emotions."

"She nearly punched me in the face last week for buying ciabatta instead of focaccia," Jane replied. "I gave her a snickerdoodle and she calmed right down."

Maura slapped Jane playfully on the head. Jane cringed in mock misery. "Stop talking about me like I'm a dog," she said.

"Of course you're not a dog, honey."

"Thank you."

Jane smirked. "You're more like a cat. All of that preening you do in the mirror-"

"Oh my god," Maura exclaimed exasperatedly. "You're so lucky that I love you, Jane."

"And don't forget you're carrying our child in there." Jane gave Maura's swollen stomach a comforting rub. She smiled upon feeling the little guy give a kick in response. The little guy was already showing that Rizzoli spirit, raring to go and meet the world with a smile and fist, if necessary.

Their eyes immediately locked, shock reading plainly on their faces. "Did you feel that?" Jane asked, struggling to make her tongue form adequate syllables.

"Of course," Maura whispered. She placed her hand on top of Jane's trembling fingers. "He's always kicking for attention. Does it still surprise you, after all this time?"

"Well sorry for being surprised," Jane replied with an eye roll. "It's not like you've been pregnant for ten years, Maura. This whole baby thing is still new to me."

"Just remember that machismo runs in the family. He just wants to remind us how strong he's becoming," Maura smiled. She turned back to her mother, flipping her honey blonde tresses behind her ear as if the hair in her eyes were an afterthought.

"Guess who just kicked?" Maura said adorably.

Constance gasped in shock, her mask cracking to reveal the abundant happiness she felt for her daughter. "Can I…?"

Maura nodded. "Of course, Mother." She looked over her shoulder at the shy red-haired man behind them. He quietly kept his distance so as not to interfere with the family's private moment. "And you can come along too, Eli. We wouldn't want to leave you out."

Jane made a noise of disbelief. "Yeah…wouldn't want to leave Ronald out."

"Jane!" Maura exclaimed. "Be nice."

"Trust me, I'm trying, but it's proving to be a monumental struggle."

-/-/-/-/-/-

Twilight rays of the falling sun stretched into the dimly lit nursery room as Jane finally finished up connecting the last chair's leg to the base, completing the last detail of the baby's new home. The simplistic lines of the wooden furniture gleaned in the orange rays of light from the bay window, each piece waiting silently for future usage. Just one item remained for its placement.

Constance's final parting gift before leaving was a custom made mobile. Made of colored glass, geometric shapes, and painted wooden interlocked squares and rectangles, Jane found another reason to be speechless today. With gifts like these, Jane thought, the baby is going to be either extremely cultured or extremely spoiled.

"I hope not," Jane muttered.

"Hope not what?" Maura asked as she came into the nursery. Her honey locks were in a ponytail, the traditional sleeping arrangement for her hair. The woman's bare legs descended like beanstalks from her comfortable yet still alluring nightie, barely managing to cover much of anything given the swollen state of her stomach.

Jane gave a quick look before smiling. "Just hoping your mom doesn't go crazy with the need to over-compensate with the baby. First this mural and now a mobile, all custom made, by the way…" She sighed tiredly, shaking her head. "I know your mother screwed up with you by not giving you the attention you needed but…this baby," the detective moved to hold Maura in her arms, "this baby is _our_ baby, not hers."

"Jane," Maura cooed. "My mother knows her place. She's just being the typical grandmother. But if you want, I can tell her to stop with all of the gifts."

"No, it's not the gifts. I just wish she didn't have such expensive tastes," Jane said. "Custom this, bespoke that… Why can't she just buy something at Pottery Barn like any other grandparent?"

Maura released a hearty laugh. "The last time my mother went to Pottery Barn was…."

"I bet she doesn't even know what Pottery Barn is."

"Of course she knows what it is. She just hasn't shopped there," Maura clarified. She leaned from Jane's embrace to look over the mostly completed nursery with a proud smile. "He's going to love this."

Jane grinned. "Yeah, I know. I might hate instructions but I went all out with this one. Just don't ask me to make anything else in the future. All of my handyman skills have been completely emptied."

"You want to call it a night, Mrs. Handyman?" Maura asked flirtatiously.

"Sometimes I think you might be a psychic."

Maura turned on her heel, dragging Jane behind her with a light tug. "Just with you, sweetheart."

The two women made their way down the dim hallway, focused only on each other. Nothing brought them more excitement than spending precious alone time in the sanctuary that was their bedroom. And Jane wasn't alone on the sentiment. Maura liked to play innocent and demure in public but she knew how much of a freak the woman could get, especially when her partner was just as committed to sharing the unusual fantasies that the blonde could create in that big head of hers. Being pregnant had just amplified Maura's, at times, wacky scenarios.

Suddenly, Maura spoke up just as they entered their large bedroom, "Before my mother left, you know what she asked me?"

"What?" Jane asked disinterestedly. She quickly slung her dirty, paint-stained overalls and old Converse in the general direction of the closet, figuring she'd sort through it later.

Maura sat down on the bed. "If we were going to use a nanny."

Jane took one look at Maura's sullen face and immediately knew there was no need to rush now. Maura didn't need sex; she needed her best friend. Dammit, Jane cursed, letting her sexual frustration get the best of her.

"So what's the big deal?" Jane asked, taking a seat next to the downtrodden blonde.

"I could never impose the loneliness I felt as a child on my own child, Jane. All of the nannies, butlers, assistants, private professors and instructors that I've had during my childhood just made all of the confusion I felt regarding the deviance I felt from my parents even worse." Maura sighed exasperatedly. "The reason I pushed and pushed and pushed to have this child is because of the desire to have a chance to give our child the love and affection that I never could ask for. It might be selfish to bring another life into this world for those kinds of reasons but…it is what it is. Having a nanny would take away from that. Did you know I learned how to say my nanny's name first over mama? How sad is that? I don't want that for Constantine, Jane."

Jane cringed slightly, still unused to the name Maura had decided to call the baby. It just felt far too unwieldy in her mouth to be thrown around as a first name. The massive deluge of information coming from the blonde, however, hardly caused much concern. She had a habit of letting things build, build, and build out of politeness and then it would come flooding out in a wave of pent-up anxiety.

"Honey, look at me," Jane quietly commanded, her husky voice impossible to refuse. "Don't take things so personally. Constance was just asking, not demanding."

"I know, I know. But why do I _feel_ like she was forcing me to make a decision?"

"Because you don't want to make a decision."

Maura frowned. "I've made a decision."

"Tell me then."

Maura bit her lip, bringing a rosy blush to her soft lips. She raised her hand to her face, a nervous habit. Without having to be asked, Jane took Maura's hands in her own to help in relieving that inner turmoil. "I don't want to use a nanny for the baby."

"Okay, problem solved. No nanny. Fine with me. Angela will gladly give you advice on how to be a good housewife." Jane gave her a bright smile which was nearly infectious. The brunette hardly noticed Maura's look of disgust at the idea of being a full-time housewife. "Now can we get back to sexy time? I've worked my ass off. Don't you think that deserves some Rizzoli on Isles time?"

Maura squirreled away from Jane's eager lips. She stood up abruptly to retrieve a small leather-bound book, tattered from endless hands and eyes perusing its depths. "I forgot to tell you, speaking of mothers, Angela gave me this at work a couple of days ago. She told me that you'd know what to do with it. Something about names for the baby-"

"She didn't," Jane interrupted, her voice disbelieving of her mother's actions.

Maura nodded. She sat down next to Jane. "She did. Your mother made it _very_ clear that tradition is _very_ important to the Rizzoli family. God knows I wouldn't want to cause familial discord."

Jane took the book with a heavy sigh. Leave it to her ma to screw everything up in her typical fashion of butting her head in other people's business. She had told her that whether or not they stuck to tradition for naming the baby wasn't up to anyone but them, but apparently, she hadn't gotten the complete message.

"Basically this book keeps the names of all the Rizzoli ancestors. At least one child, preferably the firstborn, is supposed to be given a name from one of the ancestors listed," Jane explained, picking her nails in boredom. "When my ma decided to be a little rebel and decided to name me based off of her own interests, supposedly my great-grandma put a curse on our family."

"A curse… What kind of curse?"

Jane lowered her voice, "That her children will only be able to conceive men. Given our current track record, my ma probably thinks the damn nonsense is actually true. She wants you to be her retribution. For your sanity, don't pay attention to her."

Maura raised an eyebrow in thought as she gazed obsessively at the small book in Jane's hand. Despite her initial confusion, she seemed to be genuinely interested in following the stupid Rizzoli tradition. "What a quaint familial institution. May I see?"

With a frown, Jane held out the book. She watched as Maura flipped through the pages in earnest. "Wow… They even have a brief history attached to each individual name. Someone must have done a lot of work to be so thorough."

"Each new mother tries to add a little bit to it each time. Kinda like the family cookbook passed from daughter to daughter. It's not really that much work."

Maura smiled. "Are middle names included in the tradition or not?" she wondered out loud. "I'm assuming no since there seems to be a lack of Clementines in here."

"Middle names aren't required to follow tradition." Jane stood up to get dressed in a pair of her lover's pajamas given at one of the Bullet and Blast conferences throughout the years. There was little prospect for sexy time now that Maura had become enraptured with the "quaintness" of one of the many ridiculous rituals of a typical Boston Italian family. "You know, you don't have to do this to appease her. She and the old crones can just take their traditions and shove-"

"Which name did you pick out?" Maura asked, her eyes shining with unrestrained glee.

Jane was taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"Well I'm sure Angela let you see it every once and awhile as a part of the girl-becoming-a-woman set of rituals that characterize most families. You have to have picked out a name when you were a child. So…which was it?"

"I'd rather not say," Jane blushed.

"Please…"

"No."

"Please…"

"I said no."

"Pretty please, Jeddy?" Maura begged, batting her eyelashes. Her voice lowered into a sexy – albeit flawed – mimicry of Jane's husky voice. Very little could bring the tough brunette to her knees better than hearing her prim and proper girlfriend attempt Jane's unique brand of sexy. She failed mostly but the power was in the attempt.

Jane released an exasperated sigh. "Why do you even care, Maura?" She flopped miserably down on the wonderfully soft, tangerine colored comforter. "It's not like this is necessary. You said you wanted to name the baby Constantine in honor of your mother. A baby can't have two first names."

"Actually," Maura began in her doctor voice, signifying the factoid that would surely come. "Children can have as many first, middle, or last names as they desire. Most states or countries don't set a legal limit. But I'm sure having nineteen first names would surely bring some federal attention to the parents' mental faculties in raising that child."

"Later that same day…," Jane said. She threw a hand over her eyes, ignoring the small, engraved band of silver on her ring finger that twinkled in the dim light.

Maura made a face of annoyance before rolling her eyes at the prone brunette. "I think it would be fitting for you give the baby his first name. It's not fair for me to choose something like Constantine without letting you have your own choice. So…what's your choice? Don't be shy. Anything has to be better than," she flipped through the pages, "Sheldon Constantine Isles-Rizzoli."

Jane sighed. There was no choice. She had to tell her or Maura would never let her go about it. The woman could be as bad as a fucking bloodhound when she wanted to be.

"Bartholomew. I've always liked Bartholomew."

Maura was clearly perplexed by the surprising name choice. "Bartholomew? Why that name?"

Jane quickly explained that Bartholomew was the name of her great-great-great grandfather. He came over from Italy after hearing from his sister – who was a seamstress in Boston working for an old Brahmin family – that the pay was good, better than Italy. Bartholomew, deciding to take his chances abroad, got on the first ship heading west to America with his brothers in tow. According to the family history – and we know how much Italians love to mythologize their ancestors – Bartholomew, colloquially known as St. Bart, became renowned across the Northeast for his improvising skills on the piano and the trumpet while working in the new jazz clubs beginning to pop up in Boston during the Jazz Age.

In the world of the Rizzoli myth, Bartholomew Rizzoli was a small fry. Some of her cousins didn't even know who the man was, choosing to focus primarily on the minor baseball, soccer, and even the occasional opera singer that cropped up. The glory of seeing a fellow Rizzoli scoring the winning goal or showing their musical talents on the world stage couldn't compare to the relative boredom of a pianist/trumpeter who had once played with Louis Armstrong in his heyday.

In her tomboyish youth, however, Jane had always found an attraction in the name that others chose to ignore. The way it rolled off of her tongue was just part of the adoration. Mainly Bartholomew's story gave her hope that she too could do great things in her own life. For a kid with buckteeth, gangly limbs, and always three shades darker than everyone else on the playground because of her love of the outdoors those kinds of stories always brought a smile to Jane's face.

"Bartholomew Constantine Isles-Rizzoli…" Maura said slowly, as if testing each syllable out on her lips.

"You think it sounds stupid."

Maura shook her head. "No, I like it," she smiled. The medical examiner lowered her body down to Jane's on the bed, playing with her stringy mass of loose curls that desperately needed a good comb through. "It flows better than Constantine and finding a nickname will be a lot easier. We can call him Bart. But I just realized… Do you think people might connect him to _The Simpsons_? I don't want our child to be associated with a nihilistic troublemaker."

Jane laughed. She moved to caress the swollen stomach where their son continued to ready himself for his arrival in just a couple of months. Right on cue, the baby kicked, as if recognizing his mothers' voices. "I don't think he's going to be seen as Bart Simpson, Maura. Who knows? He might not even like having his name shortened."

"Well…why not ask him?"

Jane frowned. "Ask who? Ask God? I don't like to ask that greedy man up there for anything. It always comes back to haunt me. I asked him to save Clementine and you know what he did? He saved her…for just long enough for us to have to endure a painful goodbye session. That man never gets anything right."

"Ask the baby if he likes his new name or not."

To placate her lover and, hopefully, get some sexy time on her day off, Jane moved to talk directly to the exposed navel of Maura's stomach. "So, hey there, little guy. Mommy Maura and I have picked out a name we thought you'd like, and we just wanted to run it by you. What do you say for Bartholomew Constantine Isles-Rizzoli, aka Bart for short?"

Suddenly, the baby started to kick excitedly against the various barriers between Maura's swollen stomach and the world outside, bringing a laugh from both Jane and Maura's mouths. Even with her facts and figures, the medical examiner was hardly expecting such a vivid reaction from their unborn son, but Jane, on the other hand, felt nothing but proud for the baby.

_I'm glad he's inherited my strength. Hopefully, he won't be as stubborn as I am. _

"Well, guess you've chosen your name, huh?" Jane whispered. "It's a good name too. Way better than Constantine, in my opinion. And you know what, little guy? I think you're gonna be quite something, just like your namesake, Bart."

-/-/-/-/-/-

Frankie found his undercover partner and Bone lounging around on the roof next to the pool, enjoying the remaining rays of sun from their perch above the drudgery of common day life in Boston. He made sure Riley was safe and sound before taking a spot several chairs away from the fake romance developing between the couple. The nameless guard positioned nearby frowned at how comfortable he had begun to make himself around the drug lord's inner sanctum, but Frankie ignored him, choosing to focus on his game of Angry Birds.

Despite his outward appearance, Frankie was nervous to be handling this without Jane and the rest of the team providing back-up. Dean had assured him that his team of federal agents was keeping a close watch on them via the bugs placed around the house. Since the level of risk had lowered given Bone's relaxation and tenuous trust in the two undercover cops, he couldn't blame his sister and friends for taking a much needed day off. The agents were just as qualified to step in if things went awry but…nothing gave him courage like knowing his tough-as-nails sister had his back.

An unexpected high-pitched giggle of excitement carried from across the space, bringing Frankie's attention to Riley and Bone just as she stepped up from the chair with a coquettish smile. She shook her papaya hued bikini flirtatiously, slashing the wispy strings of fabric barely managing to provide a modicum of modesty around her caramel skin. Jesus Christ, Frankie cursed, struggling to keep his tongue in his mouth. His alias required him to have little attraction to the opposite sex, but Riley was making it difficult to stay in character.

Several months ago, Frankie would have gladly sat back, enjoying the display before him. But that had been before Riley had chosen to use him and Frost as a notch on her belt to get a promotion to Homicide. No matter how many times Jane had tried to tell him that the young detective deserved the spot that should have been rightfully his, he just couldn't accept it.

From his time working undercover with the woman, however, he was starting to realize that Riley really was a great detective. Not as great as his sister, mind you, but still worthy of her salt. He had learned so much from her and was beyond grateful for her willingness to hand over her wisdom of working undercover. Everything he had been infatuated with during her time undercover was still there: the sassy humor, undeniable level of beauty, and ability to understand where he was coming from.

"No, Bone," Carmen pleaded. She shook her head in an adorable fashion, begging the smirking man before her to try and chase. "You can't be serious. I want to swim first and _then_ have sex. You always hold out on me anyway," she pouted. "I'm starting to think all of the chivalry about being loyal was bullshit."

"You swim and I'll wait for you."

Carmen frowned. "So you can stare at me like a lecher? I think not." She grabbed Bone and dragged him out of his seat. With a shocked laugh, Bone just managed to leave his cell on the table before being thrown into the water. Carmen soon followed, choosing to cannonball into the heated pool.

Frankie watched as the woman tried – mostly in vain – to bring a genuine smile to the fiercely serious man who seemed none too happy to be in the pool. The water dripped from his chiseled face, every breath he took visible from his soaked shirt.

Like a wet dog, Bone shook his head while Carmen paddled over, winking flirtatiously. "Now we can swim together."

"But I didn't plan on swimming today."

"Oh…don't be such a stick in the mud. Have a little fun once in a while," Carmen replied, dunking the unsuspecting man into the water.

Bone defended Riley's water assault with a playful assault of his own, hardly putting up much of a fight. He seemed more focused on keeping his long, jet black braid from getting too wet.

Finally, after much finagling, Bone managed to trap Carmen between his body and the pool wall. The water gleaned like fireworks in his hair, orange flashes of light from the diminishing sun reflecting against the steaming surface of turquoise water. "That wasn't very nice, Carmen. You need to learn some manners."

Carmen winked. "And you need to learn how to have some fun. God, sometimes I feel like I'm getting paid to spend time with a funeral director," she joked.

Frankie watched with a slight frown. He didn't know how many times he had told Riley to not be so forward but she wouldn't listen. When he brought her behavior with Bone up, she would remind him of their varying levels of experience doing undercover assignments. There was no use arguing against the truth. He did have a lack of experience, but he didn't want to see her hurt. Riley would never admit it, but the young officer knew that she was just as hungry to prove her worth as he was on this undercover operation.

"Be careful," Frankie muttered worriedly. The first rule of working undercover was watching your partner's back. He didn't want to screw that up just because Riley wanted to show how hardcore she could be to Jane and the others on Homicide.

The surprising image of a dark form took Frankie's attention away from the couple. He tensed in preparation if the visitor proved to be a threat. Riley turned slightly to give her partner a subtle look that had been given several times before. It meant the same as it did before: "Wait until I give you a signal." He sighed silently, returning the signal with a subtle motion of agreement.

Each step of the visitor's high-heels against the tiled floor of the entrance way leading toward the pool was muffled with the sounds coming up from a typical busy evening in Boston. Her black jeans and the crimson shade of her short sleeve oxford warranted attention but her face was the true marvel. Despite the beauty that was plainly evident with her flowing platinum blonde locks – kept out of her eyes with a plain ribbon – and classically structured features, the shocking brilliance of her icy-cold amber eyes seemed to punish all those who were unlucky to get trapped in her web.

She pushed the door open without waiting for Bone's guards to do it for her, making her way toward the poolside where Bone, his back turned from his unexpected guest, continued to amuse the young woman in his arms. With three strides of her long legs, the woman looked down at him briefly before snapping her fingers. The sound reverberated around the rooftop like thunder alerting those awaiting her wrath that a storm was on the horizon, threatening to release devastation and despair upon all.

Whoever she is, Frankie thought, she means business. He was enraptured by the icy woman standing just a couple of feet away. Something seemed odd about her. The young officer couldn't quite place it but made sure he kept detailed mental notes to compare with Riley and report back to Jane and Dean.

Everyone looked up at the beautiful woman in confusion. Bone, in particular, lowered an eyebrow with a smirk. "If I had my gun, I would have shot you."

The woman looked over at Bone's holstered Beretta with a smile. "I dare you to try, Bone."

"Really?"

"Of course not," the woman said. "You're a damn fine shot. I happen to like living."

Bone laughed heartily. With little fanfare or explanation, he rose his scarred body up from the warm embrace of the pool. The woman handed him a fresh towel and he nodded his thanks. "So who's this?" she asked.

"Carmen."

The woman leaned slightly to give the undercover detective a look of amusement. Frankie wondered if she knew what they were up too given the way the woman seemed to calculate Riley's being there with a quick glance. If that happened…things were going to get out of hand, quickly. He was at a complete loss as to what to do. It hardly helped that Riley had her back turned to him, preventing her from giving him reassurance as to making the right decision.

"What are you doing here anyway?" Bone asked. "Deciding to join me in the trenches?"

The woman smiled. "Just cleaning up something on the home front before you head to Istanbul."

Frankie listened intently to them discuss their private affairs in what sounded like some kind of code. For a brief moment, he hoped the feds were getting this on their high-powered bugs but he quickly remembered that the pool was one of the few areas that the bugs didn't work well in. Frost had said something about the signal strength or whatever but he had mostly ignored him.

"Tell the play-toy and her handbag to leave, Bone."

"Oscar…"

Oscar glared at the man before her. "Business before pleasure, Bone." She extended a hand toward the woman in the skimpy bikini watching curiously at the two of them. "Don't worry, sweetheart. He'll call you later when he's done with me. It shouldn't take long."

Carmen looked over at Bone for his answer, choosing to ignore Oscar's outstretched hand. Oscar noticed the snub with weary eyes. She retracted her unused hand, clenching it in fist by her side.

"You should go," Bone replied. He extended a polite hand for Carmen, allowing her to get out of the pool.

With a pout, Riley grabbed her things and made her exit. Frankie nodded at the statuesque blonde and Bone, making sure to get one last look of the new arrival. He quickly caught up to his partner as she headed toward the bathroom to change before leaving for the night.

"Something just happened," Riley whispered. She dried her hair with the warm towel before throwing it in the general direction of the guard who would pick it up. "And that blonde woman is in the middle of it."

Frankie nodded. "I got a weird vibe from her. You want me to tell Korsak we need to meet with the team?"

"We'll do it together after we get out of the lion's den." Riley turned the corner to head into the bathroom. "I think we might have been looking at the wrong guy for this drug smuggling ring. Whatever Oscar's place is in this whole affair, I'll bet my house that she's the mastermind behind everything."

Frankie frowned. "What makes you say that?"

"Women's intuition, Frankie."


	29. Chapter 29

-/-/-Chapter 29-/-/-

The tension began to rise, wrapping itself around her body like a rattlesnake waiting to strike. Unsure of how to respond, Jane kept her focus on the beautiful woman gyrating above her. In the dim light of the late hour, Maura's blonde waves shivered with each subtle shift as she searched methodically for just the right amount of pressure to ease the tendrils of fire threatening to overwhelm them both.

"Just…a…little…bit…more," Maura whispered in between thrusts, her eyes closed in absolute concentration.

Jane screamed in frustration. They had been at this game of chicken for far too long. If there was one thing she lacked that could be considered a fatal flaw it was her lack of patience. This slow pace was murdering her; slow wasn't her forte.

Maura, on the other hand, used to fence at her exclusive boarding school and had mastered the art. She smiled blissfully, managing to yawn in boredom as she continued to persist with her drawn out game of torture.

In frustration, Jane gathered her remaining strength to make a particularly cruel upward motion of her trembling hips. Maura laughed in amusement. "Don't cheat. You've already forced me have to tie those pretty hands up." She leaned to play with the black ribbons keeping Jane's hands tied to the headboard of the bed, her swollen stomach a constant reminder of Bart's presence. "I won't hesitate to use the blindfold if you keep acting up."

"Maura…please," Jane begged, hot tears leaking out of the corner of eyes as she thrashed for more control. It had gotten to the point that she would do anything to alleviate the pressure building to dangerous levels through her veins. "Untie me. Let me feel you."

Maura pouted melodramatically as her body continued to torture, "You've been so damn difficult. I don't think you deserve a gift."

"I won't last without it," Jane growled. As much as she hated her subservient tone, she couldn't bare much more of this teasing. Not having the use of her hands was just too much. This wasn't the first time Maura had taken away the use of one of her senses but never had she gone so far in eliminating her control.

Understanding her lover's unspoken need for some semblance of control, Maura released Jane from the restraints. The silky smooth black ribbons floated from the reddened bruises beginning to form on her slim wrists with little more than a sigh of acknowledgment. All the fanfare in the world couldn't compare to the excitement shared by both women upon releasing her from her bondage. Maura wouldn't have done so if she wasn't growing slightly tired with the game also. Finally, Jane thought with a smirk. The end was in sight.

Despite the effort it took for Maura to remain playful, she managed to continue aggravating Jane even further. "It's so much easier when you follow the rules."

"Rules are made to be broken," Jane bantered back, a hint of desperation coloring her voice. She slowly began to move down to Maura's fluttering hips, avoiding the full breasts slightly darkened by the pregnancy. The feel of her touch against Maura's skin was usually enough to push her out of these let's-see-who-can-last-the-longest moods that occasionally took hold over their bedroom.

But Maura was having none of it. With a smile, she gently eased Jane's hands to the wrinkled sheets. "Patience…"

Jane sighed heavily. There was no use; Maura was determined to let this run its course. She closed her eyes, hoping the heavens would hear her cry to either end the torture or help her reach a zen-like calm until her lover was ready. The slight feel of counter-pressure in response to Maura's rhythmic thrusting against Leo – yes, all of the sex toys had names after astrological signs...another one of Maura's odd ideas – was maddening to the detective but she was determined to wait it out.

If she can do it, I can do it even better, Jane thought.

For once in her thirty-nine some odd years, a higher power decided to grant her wish. Jane opened her eyes again to see Maura biting her lip, her mind losing out to the desires of the flesh as her freckled skin began to flush with heat.

"I'm coming."

"Thank god," Jane said exasperatedly, glad for the chance to increase the pace.

Several prolonged minutes of high-pitched squeals and groans of satisfaction came and went in a fog of exhilarating sensation, leaving Jane and Maura to catch their breaths. They luxuriated in the warm bliss of yet another fantastic satisfactory bout of love-making. Maura looked over at her exhausted lover with a goofy smile, completely unperturbed by the cool air from the air-conditioning kissing her damp skin.

"Wasn't that fun? I told you it would be a mind-blowing experience."

Jane frowned. "Fine, honey. You were right about the Tantric thing. But," she made a slight movement with her body to fling the unneeded strap-on on the floor to deal with later, "we don't need to make this a regular occurrence."

Maura snuggled up to Jane with a pouting face. "Why not?" she said petulantly. "The emotional buildup of our combined chakras is astounding. It's a beautiful experience to be cherished. Several authors of renown have wrote about the beauty of orgasm-"

"Do I look like Dean? He'd enjoy reading an orgasm journal. Knowing him, he probably keeps one to remember each of the girls he manages to pick up. He'd write each vivid detail down in a leather-bound journal for future study," she said. "Joking aside, I will not be reading about other people's orgasms under the guise of self-help. Not now, not ever."

"Fine, fine, but at least see the benefit of bringing the experience of Tantric practices into the repertoire every once and awhile."

Jane shook her head. "When are we going to bring it in? Bart isn't going to enjoy listening to his mommies scream bloody murder when he's trying to sleep."

"I'm sure we can keep it a little quieter once we get the hang of it." Maura tilted her head in confusion at Jane's tangled mass of curls moving toward her lower extremities. "Oh…not tonight, baby. I'm too tired to try a double. Maybe tomorrow."

"Don't worry. I don't think I could handle an encore either. I just wanted to get my last conversation in with Bart before we pass out."

Watching Jane begin to murmur to their unborn son, Maura giggled as she played with the detective's loose curls. "You're really stepping up to the plate with being a mom."

The words had a powerful effect, stopping Jane in her tracks. For the first time, she realized that the idea of being Bart's mother gave her nothing but pride and love instead of the anxiety she felt before. Maybe she was maturing or accepting the obvious. Each passing month brought them closer, closer, ever so closer to Bart's arrival and further away from the feasibility of trying to deny the truth. Bart was depending on her and Maura to give him all of the love and guidance he would ever need. No use dragging her feet with only four some odd months left.

"Yeah," Jane said. "I guess I am. You sound surprised."

Maura's face turned scarlet red after being called out. "Well, yes…I guess I am. The thought of having a child used to give you the – what is it called? – jeepers-creepers. And now you're calm, cool, and collected about everything. Did you have a spiritual awakening or what?"

"You mean heebie-jeebies, honey," Jane corrected. She began to swirl elaborate patterns of love on her lover's stomach, smiling at the subtle movement from the baby that followed her touch.

"Regardless of the nomenclature assigned to the action, it's the same concept."

Jane rolled her eyes. "A spiritual awakening and accepting responsibility over this new life we created together are two different things."

"But in your case they both involve a catalyst toward a drastic mental change."

"Arguing with you is a waste of time."

Maura tilted her head. "Then why do you still try?"

"I'm a glutton for punishment." Jane gave Maura's swollen stomach a brief kiss before returning back to her lover's arms. With little fanfare, the tired blonde happily took her in an embrace. "You know, it might sound stupid but I'm getting kinda excited to finally see him and hold him in my arms. Bart, I mean."

"Me too," Maura said. "He'll probably have that prominent chin of yours. The last sonogram of him looked exactly like a male version of you. I seriously thought George Clooney's spawn was looking back at me."

"George Clooney? Really?"

Maura made a face. "We should be glad, honey. Clooney is a beautiful man. He's like a walking gift from the heavens. I wish my chin looked like George Clooney's."

"Stop being such a smart-ass," Jane said with a playful poke in the ribs. Maura was similar to the Pillsbury Doughboy in the sense that she was ticklish pretty much everywhere. Each tickle would instantly result in an endless torrent of adorable giggles.

Right on cue, Maura began to turn red from giggling so hard. "I'm going to take that as a compliment. Donkeys, colloquially known as jackasses, are one of the most intelligent members of the _equidae_ family. Numerous studies have shown that some donkey breeding lines are exceptionally more intelligent than their _equus_ evolutionary brethren. Did you know that my cousin is actually a professional donkey breeder? He takes them to shows and everything. When I was riding Mannequin on my dressage team back in college, sometime I'd see him pop over a couple of jumps with a couple of them. He did really well-"

Jane interrupted Maura with a passionate kiss. The blonde quickly reciprocated as their tongues began to duel with each other for yet another time that night. But the magical moment was quickly interrupted by the sound of vibration coming from the detective's smartphone. As the buzzing continued to echo around the room – complete with the musical genius of Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody" – the ability to ignore the noise dissipated with each breath they took.

"Damn it," Jane groaned.

"Leave it." Maura spoke with far more of a predatory tone than she'd intended. Jane nearly wanted to drool at the woman's feet, loving the rare sign of aggression in her sweet lover's voice.

"I can't," Jane said exasperatedly. "It's work. Dean will have my ass if I don't answer."

"Even if you tell him that you were having really hot sex with your loving wife and best friend for life?"

Jane smirked. "Yeah…I don't think that icing is gonna make this cake taste any better."

Maura sighed. She released Jane from her arms with a melodramatic pout. "It's okay, sweetheart. I know you're on call. Go on. Answer the phone."

Jane moved to grab her cell. She was expecting the worse, knowing that getting a call this late was a bad omen. _Something must have gone wrong._ As she talked on the phone, Maura stood up to open the large window facing the street to get some much needed fresh air into the room. By the time she turned around, her lover had returned to her role as the detective that could handle anything the world threw at her. Jane quickly made her way to the bathroom to take a quick shower just as Maura waddled her way back to the bed.

"What's up?" Maura asked. The sound of scratching from outside their open bedroom door came a brief second before Jo Friday came trotting up to the bed. Unlike some animals, Jo knew that screaming meant stay away while talking meant come on in. Bass, given his slow speed, was still having problems with understanding that rule.

The sound of running water echoed from the shower just as Jane tilted her head out of the bathroom door. "Dean wouldn't say. Korsak wanted to get an emergency meet together at the safe house. Apparently Riley and Frankie got something big during their date with Bone. It could break the case."

Jo barked politely for admittance into the bed. With a smile, Maura picked the squirming terrier from the floor. "Come on up, Josephine. I could use the company."

The dog quickly snuggled up into the covers next to the blonde's swollen stomach. She barely managed to restrain a laugh at the feeling of Bart moving as if in response to Jo's warmth.

Maura patted the dog on her soft ears. "I guess it's just you and me tonight. Your mommy is leaving me. Would you like to be my cuddle buddy, Jo?"

Jo wagged her tail, snuggling even closer to the blonde. No more words were needed. Maura grabbed the comforter and brought it over her shoulders. Sleep came easy to the exhausted woman in desperate need for sleep. But before it managed to fully overtake her, the sound of Jane getting ready to leave for the night woke her back up from semi-sleep.

"I'm heading out," Jane whispered, now fully dressed in a black suit.

"You want me to stay up?" Maura mumbled.

"No, I'll be late." Jane lowered her head down to give Maura a brief kiss. "You taste good. Almost makes me not want to leave."

"Don't tease me with false promises."

Jane laughed. "I love you."

"Love you more," Maura replied.

With that done, it was back to work. She hoped nothing was amiss.

-/-/-/-/-/-

Deciding to take the Aston, Jane quickly made her way to the safe house used by the feds as their base of operations during their task force operation to take down Cisco's international smuggling ring and his attempts to bring the business into Boston. She had been happy to have another chance to take him down after the fiasco from over ten years ago, but ever since starting the operation nearly six months ago, she had felt something hinky about the entire thing. Everything seemed to be falling into place a little too easily. The last thing she wanted to do was jinx the entire operation, but there seemed to be a piece of the puzzle missing, a piece they couldn't see.

Shaking her head away from the negative thoughts, Jane rapped on the door to await entrance. The house looked the same as it had back when she had seen it the first time: completely unoccupied, silent, and dark. She couldn't help but be surprised at the depressing outward appearance compared to the bustling, lively energy that overwhelmed visitors upon entering the safe house.

Jane tapped her feet in boredom while the hidden camera registered her face. She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sight of a burly uniformed guard coming out of the door with a heavy frown. "What do you want?"

"I need to see Dean," Jane said, slightly confused at the third degree she was getting. Normally she would meet Dean at the door or the door would open automatically after registering her face. She began to feel the concern mount over her team. What the hell was going on in there? Security was never this tight…

The no name agent's expression changed minutely. He moved his eye slightly to the left as he listened to his earpiece.

"Sorry, Detective Rizzoli," he said apologetically. "You're cleared."

"Thanks," Jane replied. She pushed past the man and made her way up the stairs to the conference room where Dean had told her the meet was taking place. A couple of familiar FBI agents, including a gun specialist who loved guns almost as much as Jane, nodded at the brunette with a coffee mug in hand before turning back to their work monitoring the relentless information coming in from the audio/visual feeds of the bugs placed around Bone's home and regular hang-outs.

Jane walked into the large conference room, recognizing all of the familiar faces. Korsak nodded a brief hello from his seat around the table. Frost and Frankie were reacquainting themselves with small talk about the latest basketball standings concerning the conference finals, completely oblivious to her arrival. Riley, on the other hand, seemed slightly distracted, unusual for the young detective. In a position of authority, Dean stood at the podium near the far corner of the room. He was far too busy with the computer in front of him to give the brunette more than a casual tilt of the head before returning his focus back to the illuminated screen.

As she took her seat, Jane realized the only member of the team not present was their representative for the legal side of the operation, Eric Weiss. She'd be lying to say she wasn't the littlest bit concerned for his unexplained absence. If what Riley and Frankie had to say was as big as she was led to believe, he needed to be here before they made a move. There was no point wasting time making a plan to have it rejected at the last minute because of a legal loophole that could be taken advantage of by a high-priced attorney paying by the minute. Not to mention it was fairly odd for Eric not to show up, no matter what time it was.

God, I hope he didn't chose last night, of all nights, to go on an after work bender at the bar, Jane thought. She cringed at the image of her ex-fiancé telling his unique brand of dry humor to a blank as a board blonde shoveling top shelf drinks into his mouth. He always had a thing for blondes…

Jane coughed. The room quickly silenced to give the detective the floor. "I'm glad to see everyone's so cheery at three in the morning. We gonna start this before the sun comes up or what?"

"Are we keeping you from something…or someone?" Frankie added. His smart-ass comment quickly earned him an icy glare from his not amused sister.

Dean shook his head before making his way back to the round table. "We're still waiting for-," the sound of the door opening to reveal Eric wearing his worn-in chinos and old prep school t-shirt with a tired expression, "speak of the devil, Eric. Where have you been? Having too much fun spending the night alone?"

Eric rolled his eyes. "Don't assume we all spend our evenings like you do. Jujubee got an ear infection and hasn't been feeling up to snuff. I had to take her to the doctor for medication but getting her to keep it down requires a force of divine intervention."

"I don't know whether to feel sorry for you or Juju," Jane said. "You both could win the award for the worst sick patient of all time."

"Who's Jujubee?" Frost and Frankie asked at the same time.

Eric shared a look with Jane before turning to her brother. "If you have to ask, you really don't need to know."

Frankie frowned. "If you didn't want to answer all you had to say was, 'I don't want to tell you.'"

With a loud clearing of his throat, Dean motioned for them to settle down with the playful ribbing and to focus on the expensive screen behind him. The assistant gave him a thumbs-up before dimming the lights. Eric moved to sit down next to Jane as everyone swiveled in their seats to face the screen.

"You know what this is about?" Jane asked under her breath, as Dean readied himself to start the meeting.

Eric yawned. "Knowing Dean, it involves nothing more than hot air and assumption," he said, smiling. "Hopefully they'll be something to this meeting in the middle of the goddam night."

Dean stood up from the table. "As you know, Riley and Frankie were working undercover tonight. They've related some information to me concerning an unexpected visitor that showed up at Bone's place. My team looked into it and determined this meet to be a necessary response."

"Cut the company line bullshit," Eric called out. "If you haven't noticed cause your head is so far up your ass, some of us would rather be home."

Waiting for the inevitable wisecrack that would soon follow, Jane raised an eyebrow in shock as the federal agent resumed talking as if he was never interrupted. Nothing but a subtle smirk came from his face in response.

Dean motioned to the techie behind the computer monitor. The composite of a beautiful blonde along with static images of, presumably, the same woman were displayed on the screen behind him. He stepped out of the way to make sure everyone had a clear view.

"Detective Riley Cooper," he ordered, forcing her to stand. "Given your lead position on this case and your experience undercover, would you care to explain what happened tonight during your date with Bone?"

Riley nodded. She took a deep breath before continuing where Dean left off. "The woman displayed before you visited Bone. He seemed to be just as surprised as we were at her arrival. She told us to leave and Bone hardly offered much of a complaint. We were unable to collect much first-hand data about the woman but he called her Oscar and treated her in a friendly manner."

Jane leaned forward slightly. She meticulously analyzed the woman's face for future reference. Oscar, or whatever her name was, certainly had the air of a beautiful woman but, more importantly, her eyes had an absolutely undeniable power within their depths. Even in a composite image constructed by computer algorithms based off Frankie and Riley's firsthand accounts, she could see the intelligence that the woman had gathered throughout her years.

She couldn't be much older than forty, Jane thought. This was the kind of force that she had felt would be needed for an international drug smuggler. Bone was charismatic. Oscar was authoritative. That authority was exactly what she felt was missing from the puzzle of investigating Bone as Cisco. The mysterious blonde had gotten her attention.

"I got the feeling from Bone that she's higher up in the command," Riley said. "And that means-"

Jane clenched her jaw in frustration. "Oscar is the one we need to get in order to shut down Cisco's plans. She's gotta know who Cisco is."

"Wait a minute," Frankie blurted out from across the table. His eyes were wild with building fury threatening to simmer into an uncontrollable flame. "So…we've been going on with the undercover op for six months and you're telling me we've got the wrong guy? What are we gonna do now? Play hopscotch and try to get this Oscar to have a sudden lesbian interest in Riley?"

Dean shook his head. "No need to worry, Frankie. This wasn't a waste of time. We've just got to refocus." The screen changed to another close up image of a blurry figure walking out of the door to Bone's apartment. Only her characteristic waist-length platinum blonde locks blowing in the slight wind distinguished the figure as their person of interest. "Oscar's role is still unknown in the hierarchy of Cisco's operation. All that can be ascertained is that we need to keep her under close surveillance. The next time she shows up, we'll be ready to keep a closer watch over her movement."

"At least we got a picture of her," Korsak added optimistically, always looking for the positive.

Jane leaned forward. She pointed out the low detail image quality to the other members around the table. "I'd hardly call that a picture, Korsak. Look how she keeps her head down, obscured from view. She knows where the cameras are and how to stay out of focus. This isn't her first time at the rodeo."

"I hope I don't have to remind you all what the evidence is," Eric said. He was the picture of relaxed boredom, hardly keeping much attention on the discussion taking place. "A blurry low-res screen capture of a figure walking out of a luxury apartment building is hardly cutting it. A judge is going to need something more than two UCs' testimony and hours of visual and audio footage with implied confessions and he-said-she-said nonsense. This isn't Vegas, people. Judges aren't going to legitimize this entire operation with hot air and pretty verbiage. Give me something to work with."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Then why don't you come and help out down at headquarters?"

"And sift through video feeds of the guy coming back eating a mega-cheese-explosion nacho combo from Billy Bob's Stank Ass Fajitahouse and spend quality time with your personal Virginity Horde? Think I'll pass. Hand feeding my sick dog has to be better than that sort of cruel and unusual punishment," Eric replied venomously. Even Jane couldn't refrain from cringing at that bitter retort. "But you know what would make it worst of all? Spending all of that time knowing you're breathing down my neck, judging me for my past."

Everyone around the table was speechless. Eric was renowned for his cool demeanor. The James Dean haircut added even more of an emphasis to the man's understated personality. Jane had never seen him so furious before. He had to be in order to be throwing out that kind of biting commentary to a man who had made it perfectly clear in the past had little love for Eric. Luckily, or unluckily, the feeling was mutual, but it still concerned the detective to have the two men acting so acrimoniously towards each other. Their behavior was a distraction to what they had to do: get Cisco off the streets, including his ever increasing band of cronies.

Jane coughed slightly. "You think we need to start worrying about safety?"

"For who?" Dean said after a brief moment of silence.

"Families, significant others, anyone of relative importance in the Boston area? The last thing I want is Maura getting hurt right now." Everyone nodded in understanding of Jane's unspoken concern for the health of her unborn child. Bart was going to their first child. The last thing Maura needed was undue stress or concern to put the baby's health at risk in the last trimester.

"The intel we have on Cisco leads us to believe that he follows a strict honor code regarding his business affairs. He doesn't bring in innocents unless it benefits him in some way. Even then he doesn't kill or harm those who aren't involved. I highly doubt Oscar would deviate from that philosophy if she is as close to him as we believe."

Eric rolled his eyes tiredly. "I'm a little confused as to why I'm here. You don't have anything concrete. A new woman is in the mix. Okay…sounds like an intelligence issue, not a legal problem."

Korsak frowned. "Don't you want to at least check off on the new development?"

"Having a new name and fuzzy picture isn't a development on my end, Sergeant," Eric added bitterly, annoyed with the whole affair. He moved to stand up after gazing at his watch. "If you get something, call me. If not, continue onward until you do. Bone, Cisco, Oscar…all the same beast, just different styles of dress. Use one to get the other, whatever you have to do. I'm going home. Unlike all of you, my workload doesn't diminish just because I'm helping out on the legal side of this undercover task force. You'd be surprised how stressful an emancipated minor case can get once evidence that that same minor is sleeping with a twenty-six year old tattoo artist named Black Ice."

Dean smirked. "I figured you'd like to fill the team in concerning your previous relationship with Oscar. You do remember meeting her back in Vegas? Remember? With the drug case mess that you ran away from just like you ran from Boston ten years ago? But…if you'd like _me_ to tell them."

With a few words, Dean had successful brought the cocky prosecutor back into the realm of the humble. Eric's face had fallen in shock as his hands fell onto the black tabletop heavily. The echoing sound of flesh on wood resounded through the room.

"Eric," Jane began in near whisper. "Are you alright?"

Eric sighed heavily. He eased into his full height, running his trembling hand through his hair. "You're a bastard for bringing that up. It has nothing to do with this-"

"Your past has everything to do with this, Eric!" Dean exclaimed passionately. "Oscar has come to light as being involved. You are the only one in this room who has had direct contact with her outside of an undercover situation. I think you have everything to do with this."

Everyone watched the two in utter silence, waiting for the information that would clear this mystery up. Oscar and Eric had a previous relationship? How? When? And what did Las Vegas have to do with it?

Despite their past relationship, Jane had never heard anything about Eric's affairs during his ten year absence and flight to Las Vegas. The couple of times she had attempted to ask him about it, he would use his conversational skills to divert to something else. At first, she had been perturbed by the secrecy, but she quickly moved to caring less about his private affairs. His past is _his_ possession, after all. Just because they were former lovers in a past life didn't give an all-access pass to his life after they called it quits.

From across the table, Frost gave Jane a look of bewilderment, hoping she knew something about what Dean was talking about. She could do nothing but shrug in reply. _I'm completely out of the loop,_ Jane thought, watching the man next to her shake in a rare show of emotional turmoil.

"Riley, you can sit down," Eric said weakly. He gave the young detective a tight smile. "Dean clearly wants me to give everyone the full story in some misguided attempt to make me cry or whatever, so here's the full story. This might take a minute, ladies and gents. Don't fall asleep on me."

Eric sighed deeply, as if the memories from the past still haunted him. "Ten years ago, Jane and I were working a case with Bone. Long story short, she made a mistake that I took the fall for. My chivalry was hardly rewarded, however. I was disbarred, made a laughing stock of the Boston bar. From what I heard on the grapevine from the few law school buddies who didn't defriend me, they told my story for years after I left as a warning tale to green lawyers. 'Don't do what he did, kiddies. You'll end up having to run away from your reputation, livelihood, and success.' Regardless, I did what I felt was best at the time." He gave Jane a sympathetic look for a second before returning back to his tale. "I left Boston with the dog and my savings after I got a job offer from one of my friends who took the black after law school. God knows I needed to get away from…everything."

"Your friend must really have a thing for _Game of Thrones_. Too much sex for my tastes but some of those girls have got great tits. Like truly grade-A quality," Korsak said. Everyone turned to the older man in confusion. He returned the looks with a look of his own. "What? He's clearly talking about that show that Frost and Frankie made me watch during their weekly TV marathon nights. Those knights of the watch wear black when they take the black."

Eric guffawed, a rare smile painted on his face. "My friend was a _judge_, Korsak."

"Oh…well, sorry. It's early."

"No debate there. It's too damn early. Thanks again Dean for calling us all out for this ridiculous affair," Eric said with his characteristic brand of dangerously dry sarcasm.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Then finish up so we can all go home back to our warm beds, Brother Grimm."

"As I was saying," Eric began, flipping his hair out of his eyes. "By the time I got to Vegas, I was hardly in the mood to do much of the political wrangling that comes with any prosecutorial position. Within a couple of years, I managed to shake the, I don't know, guilt that followed me. And then, one day, I walk into my office looking at my docket of scheduled cases and see that I've got a drug possession case with a bunch kids marked as an urgent. The kids were typical rank-and-file gang members, nothing to go crazy about. I wanted to pass it along to a rookie in need of solo experience in the courtroom but my boss told me to handle it."

Jane nodded. "So where does Oscar come in?"

"I offered the kids a deal: no jail time and removal to juvenile court for information on who was producing the drugs. They didn't take the deal, not because they didn't want to, but because they didn't know who was feeding the drugs down the chain. The case moved at a slow as molasses pace given the strings of intel being received by anyone who wanted to come forward to help the police put together the puzzle of who was playing distributor. Each month that passed made me more and more obsessed with figuring out something, anything that could solve the mystery."

"Why didn't you push harder on the kids? They might have remembered something in hindsight," Frost said. One look around the room revealed the captivated faces of the team as they listened to the prosecutor's story.

Eric smirked. "It's kind of hard to talk to the dead. Those kids were found shot twice in a halfway house," he said remorsefully. "And that's what got me so determined to figure out what was going on. Those kids had never smoked up a day in their lives. Why would they be at a halfway house full of junkies who couldn't even afford a bag of groceries nonetheless 10 grams of ninety-percent pure cut cocaine? So I dug deeper, figuring I'd find something to work with to piece everything together. But in the back of my mind, I knew that Bone and that botched case had something to do with it. The similarities were too obvious."

"What similarities?" Jane asked loudly, interrupting the prosecutor for the second time.

Eric frowned. "The purity of the cocaine collected at Bone's warehouse in Boston matched the cocaine found in the kids' bodies. What are the odds that the same cocaine would wind up in Boston to Vegas after five years?"

Jane shrugged in reply. There was a slim chance that the same product could be in a different place after five years. Every drug had a specific make-up unique to the distributor to mark their product as an exclusive in order to retain business and dealers on the street. Not even a kid making meth in their backyard to make some extra cash for the latest gotta-have-it toy would attempt to sell without a mark to signify their product. It all came down to profit.

Suddenly, she realized just how big Cisco's empire must spread. This wasn't just an international problem; it was domestic, as well. Closing down his operation from spreading to Boston would do little more than give him an inconvenience. Within another month, he would probably have found another city on the Northeastern coast to act as hub for the massive quantities of drugs being shipped in and out of the United States border to exotic locales where the cycle continued unabated.

This is just impossible, Jane thought. It's like we're fighting a tidal wave with sticks, leaves, and sand. What's the point of getting Bone, Oscar, or Cisco if nothing is going to change?

Jane looked up to see Riley staring back at her with the same hopeless feeling written on her face. Covered in the make-up and unchanged sexy apparel from her interrupted date last night – god, it really is the wee hours of the morning – the woman appeared just as exhausted with the whole affair of being in character day in and day out just as she was exhausted with playing chess with Cisco, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

"Looks like we've lost Jane."

Jane frowned, recognizing everyone's attention on her. "What? Did I miss something?"

"Just our raconteur finishing up his endless story of suspense and adventure," Dean replied, smirking.

"How about you spell 'raconteur', Mr. I-Like-To-Play-Sudoku-By-Myself-On-The-Weekends?" Eric said venomously. "You're not even using the word right."

In typical male bravado, Dean couldn't let the jab go, jumping to the defensive. "I know how to spell the words I use in sentences."

"I notice you haven't attempted to spell it yet."

"Because I shouldn't have to."

"Or _maybe_ you don't know _how_ to."

The sound of a collective sigh of annoyance echoed throughout the conference room. Everyone was used to the two men catfight like children but they had little patience given the late hour.

"Sorry," Eric said apologetically. "Just when I thought the case was all but dead, I got an untraceable call telling me to meet at a warehouse near The Neon Boneyard downtown. It's like a bunch of old casino signs that used to be on the main tourist drag of Vegas. Kinda cool if you're into that sort of thing.

"LVPD insisted I take back-up and the whole nine yards just in case things got violent. Even the feds got involved, claiming national security could potentially be on the line if Cisco showed up and had a chance to get away." Eric smiled at Dean's smug face. "That's how I met yours truly. A little bit younger but still just as aggravating. I refused the whole detail nonsense, deciding to use just surveillance."

Frankie frowned. "Why didn't you take the back-up?"

"Because I wanted to handle it on my own. It was my case. Having a bunch of suits come in with guns blazing ready to kill anything that moves was the last thing I wanted. And, for some stupid reason, I thought this was my last chance to…get my life back," Eric confessed. He purposefully avoided Jane's eyes boring into his shoulder. "After outfitted with all of the latest Kevlar equipment, I went in. There wasn't anything more than a two-way radio, blinking with a red light. As soon as I picked it up, a fragmented female voice told me, 'You aren't a hero, Mr. Weiss. If I were you, I'd keep my focus on things that are within your purview, less you stir up trouble that results in your disgrace. I wouldn't want to see you lose everything you've spent so long to rebuild here in Las Vegas. That would just be cruel and unusual punishment, don't you say?' I still remember it like it was yesterday. Her voice was…distinctive, even with the fragmentation."

Eric sighed. He stuck his hands in his pockets. "We were left with nothing. LVPD couldn't track the radio signal's location and the feds couldn't defragment the voice without destroying the recording. The case went cold. Everyone, including the feds, blamed for losing this opportunity to reel in a big fish. But all that didn't matter as much as not getting justice for those kids, for everyone who'd died at the hands of this guy. After all of that I just went through the motions in Vegas until getting the call from the Boston Bar offering me a tenuous reinstatement. And so…that's it."

"But where's the Oscar connection?" Riley asked. "Was she the woman who called on the radio?"

Dean nodded. "The feds think so. We wanted to move forward pursuing the female voice but Eric refused, claiming that it was time to let sleeping dogs lie. He was too weak to move forward."

"He made the right decision, Dean," Jane replied. "Did you hear what she told him? The woman is either has a great bluff or she really does have connections inside. And it would make sense. How else could Cisco avoid law enforcement for so long? No one is that good."

As much as she hated taking sides, Jane couldn't let Eric take the rap on this. She had never once thought about what he had gone through during their separation. Selfishly, she had always assumed that the worst of it had gone her way but clearly she had been wrong.

The behavior from Eric now seemed to make sense. He wasn't just passionate and acting like a jackass for no reason. He wanted to deal with the past just like Jane except his past kept haunting his every attempt to move on. This was his last chance; third time was the charm, or so the saying went.

Jane turned toward Eric as he sat back down with a yawn. He returned the brunette's gaze with an amused expression before closing his eyes as if to take a nap.

Jane stood up from the table. "Listen, we need to focus on the here and now. Eric has shown us that Oscar has internal connections which means we need to play it safe and watch each other's backs. Safety is of utmost importance, guys. I don't want anyone putting the team at risk because," she gazed at Riley and Frankie in particular, "they feel they want to play hero and get an accommodation to put on their jacket for respect or a promotion."

Everyone gave various sounds of approval.

"And we need to remember that we're all working for the same side, regardless of our shared pasts and personal sentiments of each other," Jane added. Eric opened his eyes in response, dropping the act for a brief moment. Dean dropped his head in embarrassment, a slight blush coloring his pale cheeks. "We all want the same thing: to catch the Cisco Kid, whoever he might be, and shut down this international smuggling ring. If we spend all of our time arguing about who did what, we'll miss something that might pull this whole mess together into a clear picture."

For the second time, everyone gave their approval. But Dean had to add one more question before allowing them to leave. "Eric. I want to know one last thing before we kiss and make-up for the sake of making this work."

"Shoot," Eric said, flipping his black hair out of his eyes. "It's not like we can leave."

"Are you lying about what Oscar told you back there in the warehouse?"

Eric narrowed his eyes. "That woman in some way or other has fucked up my life far too many times for my liking, Dean. Why would I lie for a woman like that?"

Dean's face twitched slightly before giving everyone their leave. He stopped Jane before she could follow everyone out, forcing her to spend even more quality time with Dean. _Damn it, what does he want now?_

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to review Lea's notes on her time with Bone."

"Dean, c'mon. I'm a little tired to be doing wordplay with you. What are you trying to say?"

Dean sighed tiredly. "I'm going to bring Lea back in on this case. And before you get on my ass about it, she might know something about this Oscar woman. Maybe she saw her at a club or whatever. At this point, I'll take anything that could help us figure out more about how this woman connects to Bone and Cisco."

"You know what? This is ridiculous," Jane said, struggling to keep her anger in check. "The last person we need to 'consult' is Lea. We don't even know where her loyalties lie."

"She's still a federal officer until proven otherwise. Jane…we can use her."

Jane rolled her eyes. "You mean you want to use her to stroke your dick on those cold, lonely nights when you're not playing Sudoku."

"Why does everyone get on me for my hobbies? All of the techies laugh at me because I have a journal, play Sudoku, and have a zen garden. It's not funny."

"You…you have a _zen_ garden?"

"Yeah," Dean said matter-of-factly.

Jane couldn't restrain the hearty laugh that came from her throat. "Okay…do you also watch _RuPaul's Drag Race_? You know what, don't answer that." She ran her hand through her tangled curls. "Just make sure you think with your head and not your baser instincts when dealing with her. Lea's dangerous. You may not see it, but everyone else does."


	30. Chapter 30

-/-/-Chapter 30-/-/-

Inside a quaint café, Oscar sipped her jasmine tea from the porcelain cup, watching Bone follow suit with his hot chocolate. She smiled at his choice of drink. Despite the rapidly approaching summer heat threatening to overwhelm the pleasant temperatures of the spring season, he always chose hot chocolate over coffee or tea, claiming a dislike for caffeinated beverages. The blonde had been with him for so long that she knew his routine like the back of her hand.

Lately, everything had become the same shade of steel grey in her mind. The only thing Oscar could count on to raise her mood was her time spent with Bone. Her depressed mood was even putting a dent into her professional façade, forcing her to work from home. Knowing the old adage 'when the cat's away, the mice will play,' Oscar knew she'd have to make a definitive effort to get back to work fulltime before her entire legitimate empire crashed and burned without her skills keeping it afloat.

I can't keep spreading myself thin, Oscar thought remorsefully. Between the time-intensive process of taking control over Boston's drug trade and the international facets of her business coming in from multiple hubs and production centers across the globe, she was running out of steam to maintain anything else. Even her girlfriends had even stopped calling.

The days continued to pass without much change. Oscar had grown tired of waiting. Happily, she had taken leave from work and decided to come handle things personally in the Boston affair, focusing her energy on finishing this job after months of wasting time. It had been awhile since she had felt the need to get personally involved with a takeover but, given her half-sister's involvement, Oscar felt it her responsibility to ensure nothing went wrong.

"Silvia," Bone began, using her given first name in a friendly manner. He set down his cup with a clinking sound on the table. "Don't you think it's time you tell me why you decided to show up?"

Oscar released a genuine smile upon her face. "I hate that name, Bone."

"And how do you think I feel walking around with a name like Bone?"

"Your parents are Nez Perce."

Bone made a sound of disbelief. "And that's supposed to warrant pride? My mother and father died of alcoholism on the reservation when I was fifteen. Not exactly something I want to wave around on a flag during the holiday season."

Oscar smiled. "I see you haven't changed."

Bone was always so bitter. That was just one of the many reasons why they had worked well together. Ever since her father assigned Bone as her bodyguard when she escaped to boarding school after Lea's mother became pregnant the two dissimilar individuals had formed an immediate friendship built initially upon a shared animosity for authority. He was one of the few people she trusted with anything that came up in the personal or professional spheres of her life.

"But you know all of this," Bone said, taking another sip of his drink. "Why are you here? Something must be up. You didn't tell me anything over the phone last night."

Oscar made a slight motion with her hand to the waitress about to come over to their table to ask if they needed a refill. The girl nodded in understanding, blushing slightly as if embarrassed to be noticed by the beautiful blonde with the ice cold eyes. In the back of her mind, she wrote a mental note to leave an increased tip for the poor girl. She didn't mean to make things harder for her given how hard her job must be already, keeping up with the endless whims of the suits and old money types that filled the small café near her hotel.

"Why do you think I'm here?" Oscar asked mysteriously. She swirled the tea leaves with the small spoon, following the man-made wave patterns of the hot liquid with her hazel gaze.

"Lea will have something to do with it, I'm sure."

Oscar looked up, "How do you always manage to read my mind?" She gave her long-time friend a large smile. "What am I thinking now?"

"Ohh, I don't know… How quickly you can get whatever shit Lea's created cleaned up so you can head back to your hermetically sealed multi-million dollar coffin overlooking Central Park."

Oscar smirked. "If I didn't love you so much, you'd be dead. Have you heard from the witch lately?"

"Which 'witch' are we referring to?"

"Don't be facetious," Oscar said sarcastically. "Lea, my half-sister aka the constant burden in my side. Have you talked to her?"

Bone frowned. "No, your sister hates me like the plague. She's always hated me since the day I met her at her fifth birthday party and called her a whiny, spoiled brat. The little twat nearly threw up birthday cake on my jacket." He yawned, ignoring the looks of apprehension coming from those around him. "Should I be talking to her?"

Oscar bit her lip, a rare sign of anxiety. Leave it to her bumbling force of a sister to get into trouble. Lea hadn't contacted her in several weeks, leaving her more worried than she cared to admit. Her sister's safety was hardly a primary concern; the woman was like a cockroach in her ability to survive the hurricanes she frequently created. Oscar was more concerned on how to factor in whatever chaos Lea would bring to the equation.

Capturing Boston as a new hub would provide an increase in her movement of her products into and out of the east coast, therefore raising her profit and efficiency. Her clients thrived off of the perceived importance of the almighty dollar. If her sister got in the way…all of her carefully constructed plans would be for naught. Troublemaker was Lea's middle name.

"I'll call around with some of my buddies and see what she's up to."

With a sigh, Oscar set the spoon back down on the perfectly placed napkin. She carefully smoothed out the paper with one hand before setting the handcrafted tea spoon down with the other. "Don't lose focus, Bone. We need to finalize Boston as a controlled center for our fragmented eastern shipping corridor. I won't let Lea fuck things up this time, not again."

Bone took a much needed swig from his cooled chocolate drink. He savored the miniscule bits of chocolate still swimming in its depths, bittersweet memories washing over him as his tongue drowned in the luxurious concoction.

"How's your dad doing?" Bone asked, seemingly out of the blue.

Oscar's eyes flashed briefly with a subtle hint of sadness before she masked it with an artificial smile. "Dead as a doornail."

"Are you planning to go to his funeral?"

"He died a couple of months ago, Bone. He's deep in the hole, decomposing. Good riddance, in all honesty. He needed to make his eternal rest."

Bone raised an eyebrow. "For someone who left you with an empire to run, you hardly sound appreciative. Some of us didn't have anything left to them in a will. Unless you count compounding debt from the casinos and a mortgage on the fifty acres next to the interstate the reservation gratefully handed down to me."

"Ohh poo-poo for you," Oscar said mockingly. "I'd gladly give you my empire to be a lowly squire any day." She smiled and gave the man a pat on the hand. "What do you say? You want my father's greed in exchange for a life of blissful anonymity?"

"No deal," Bone replied with a wink. "You'd miss all of this. The pressure, power, glory, skill…all of it fuels you. Admit it, Oscar. You get off on playing God like you do over the drug world. Providing these rich addicts with more money to buy your product is a cycle that you harness for your own benefit."

"I know…but I'm growing tired of this game, Bone."

"And that's why you decided to come to Boston? To get away by jumping deeper into the pool? Sounds kind of silly, even for you." Bone asked with a knowing smile.

Oscar leaned back in her chair. She stretched her long arms, releasing two loud cracks of complaint from her tight muscles. "Things are reaching the end of the line. If I'm not careful, my plans might unravel without constant attention." She took out her phone with a smile. "I've cut off Lea's credit cards and bank accounts. She'll turn up soon. But, just in case, I'm going to call in some of my puppets."

"You must be really worried for your sister," Bone said.

"Hardly," Oscar replied, smirking at the thought. "Lea is an idiot. She'll run around in a circle chasing her tail or whatever loud noise catches her interest before coming back home with a pout. My puppets are reserved for _real_ issues. And, speaking of real issues, Big Brother is still on our back."

"So Carmen's still in play?"

Oscar nodded. She motioned for the waitress to come back over for the bill. "I want to include your little play-toy and her handbag in a plan that will take care of the parasites still hanging around."

"And what if they aren't who you think they are?"

"When have I ever been wrong?" Oscar asked with a smirk. Noticing her partner's slight frown, she turned her full attention to Bone after counting out several crisp $20 bills. "I'm not going to hurt them. They're our insurance."

-/-/-/-/-/-

Across town, in another world, Jane was struggling to keep her eyes open as the relaxing atmospheric music from Maura's Lamaze class echoed throughout the small room. She didn't even see the point of going to these stupid classes, but Dr. Rose had made their attendance mandatory given Bart being their first child and the social benefits of spending time with other couples going through a similar experience.

The reasoning was certainly valid. They had met several couples who had gladly shared their first-time labor experience with them – which Maura had wrote down eagerly in her pregnancy journal, another mandatory homework assignment for the both of them – and knowing what to expect from others who had been through the process eased both of their minds of anxiety.

Each passing day meant they were getting closer to Bart's arrival. Jane still couldn't believe this was really happening. After months of waiting, only three more remained until Bartholomew was in their arms, squirming and squealing for his two mothers' everlasting love and affection. Finally…he was going to be in their lives whether his two mothers were ready or not. In her typical style, Maura insisted on being as knowledgeable as possible about the process, buying book after book from Amazon.

I think the UPS man knows our house by now, Jane thought wryly, as many times he's been by in the last couple of weeks with box after box in hand.

Jane looked down at Maura who was attempting to multitask. She was reading yet another self-help book on whether to use drugs during the pregnancy or not while practicing her breathing. "Don't you think you should be concentrating on Lamazing?"

"Lamaze is a noun, honey. It's impossible for a noun, proper or otherwise, to have a –ing suffix."

Jane rolled her eyes. She continued to massage the blonde's back like the instructor showed them at the beginning of class nearly an hour ago. "Just answer the question."

"I've been practicing at home since cutting back my hours at the morgue." Maura attempted to turn her head back to Jane's amused face. "Are you sure this dress doesn't make me look…," she lowered her voice to a whisper, "fat?"

The dress in question was a selection from her new wardrobe. Maura had picked everything out at one of the boutiques on Newberry Street. Jane had initially had to force the woman to go and pick new clothes and shoes out for her increased comfort as the baby changed her body. She couldn't process that her tight, sexy pencil skirts and matching stilettos weren't going to cut it anymore, at least not until after Bart's birth. After dragging her into a boutique, Maura had happily realized that maternity clothes weren't all baggy pieces of fabric with little shape or care given to their construction – basically, she could get Diane von Furstenberg in maternity sizes.

Her current dress came from that trip. A long summer dress tailored for her needs, the dress was white with an endless array of rainbow Hawaiian flowers decorating the trim near her sandaled feet. With the summer heat beginning to come in and the rich strawberry honey locks carefully braided into two adorably cute pigtails, the blonde radiated with the maternal glow that came with pregnancy. Jane couldn't understand how the woman could possibly feel fat.

"Maura, you're not fat. You're pregnant. Women get bigger when their pregnant. It happens," Jane said sweetly, smiling at the annoyed instructor giving them the shut-up glare.

Maura switched her position, allowing her to talk to her girlfriend easier. "I know that I'm not _fat_."

"Then why'd you ask the question?"

"Because I still want you to find me desirable," Maura whispered, blushing slightly.

Jane nearly choked on her tongue. "Are you kidding me? I'll always find you attractive. The sunrise can't even begin to compare to how much I love seeing you every morning next to me."

"Flatterer."

Jane beamed. "Hardly. Do you need me to give you a soul-scorching kiss right here in Lamaze class? 'Cause I will."

"I'm sure you will," Maura said. She couldn't restrain the small giggle that came from her throat. Jane smiled knowingly before moving her hand down Maura's shoulders to the swell of her stomach, caressing the taut skin that always managed to tantalize her. Under her touch, a ripple of movement tickled against her fingertips. Maura released a subtle moan of arousal, but the sound was quickly interrupted by the instructor's announcement that class was over.

Damn it, Jane thought. She'd have to wait till later…

But Jane knew there wouldn't be a later. The responsibilities of the operation had taken all of her attention since Oscar's unexpected reveal nearly two weeks ago. The beautiful woman had yet to return to Bone's place, but it was only a matter of time. Now that everyone had a development to work towards, the vigor of the team had been multiplied trifold. They had gained a much needed second wind at a critical part of the final push of catching Cisco.

Things were picking up back at headquarters as more intel came in. As much as she hated it, Jane had to make increasingly more difficult decisions between work and family. Maura needed her more and more with each day while Dean kept insisting for Jane to be on call, twenty four-seven, seven days a week. The tension was unbearable, made even more difficult when her mind looped the same images of losing Cisco for a second time because Maura was having a confidence crisis and needed her at home.

"Jane? You with me?"

Jane looked up at her now standing girlfriend in confusion. "Yeah, I'm with you. You ready to head out?"

"Well, yeah…" Maura motioned around the empty room as the few remaining couples made their exit. "We're the only ones still here. The instructor ended class like ten minutes ago." She extended a hand for Jane. "Care to share what's going on in the noggin of yours?"

They walked outside to the parking lot of the local YWCA building to the beautiful Aston waiting for them in the specially marked pregnancy spot. Jane watched disinterestedly as Maura said hello to one of the other lesbian couples about to leave for the day. She quickly made her way in front of the blonde to open the door, providing assistance for the pregnant woman waddling to the car. As much as she wanted to provide more for her, the detective knew how pissed Maura would inevitably get if she did anything out of the ordinary just because she was pregnant.

As the couple drove off, Maura finally reached the open car door. She gave Jane a long and drawn out defiant stare. "I can read you like a book, you know. Why don't you just tell me you want to go back to work? Just because I'm six months pregnant doesn't mean you have to wait on me hand and foot. _I'm fine_. I can't emphasize that enough, honey."

"I want to be here," Jane said. It embarrassed her that her voice came out as more pleading than convincing. "This is my family. You and Bart are all that matters. This is where I'm supposed to be. Work…work can wait."

Maura shook her head. She lifted her hand to the brunette's chiseled face, attempting to smooth out the tension in her jaw. "Jane, you sound like a broken gramophone. I know how much we mean to you. I know how much family means to you because I've been lucky enough to be a part of yours for so long. But, at the end of the day, I know how much you love being a detective. Solving crimes, beating suspects, wearing "Miami Vice" suits, walking with that cocky strut when you have the gun and the badge, and how hot you get when you interrogate a perp with that husky voice that just drips with pent-up passion and sex-"

"Is there a point to this or are you using my emotional turmoil to get turned on?" Jane interrupted with a playful smirk. "Knowing traffic at this hour, I can get you off in the car on the drive home since you're so goddam horny all the time."

Maura shook her head, blushing slightly. "I'm sorry. I got a little off-focus."

"Yes, you did. Care to rewind or take a chance and pick this fumble up for a touchdown?"

"I don't know," Maura said. "I have no idea what you just said. There was far too many of those weird metaphors in that sentence. Could you deconstruct that sentence using a typical arrangement of subject-verb agreement and a couple of adjective-noun modifiers? That'd be great."

Jane frowned. "Now I don't know what _you_ just said."

"This is getting confusing, even for me." Maura raised her hand to her mouth to refocus the conversation. "My earlier point was that you don't have to pick between me and the baby and work. You can have it all."

"But I don't know if I can _handle_ it all." Jane sighed heavily before helping Maura into the car. She closed the door and headed over to the driver's side to resume her position at the wheel of luxury sports car.

"I think you're doing a great job. And besides, you'll know if I have a problem with your balancing of family and work. I've learned from you that there's nothing wrong with being a little assertive and hurting people's feelings from time to time."

Both Maura and Jane clicked their seat belts into place. Jane pushed the ignition button, bringing the powerful animal to life with a purr from the tuned engine. As always, the familiar sound wrapped itself around the anxious brunette like a warm blanket, easing her concerns and fears.

"Go to work," Maura insisted. She held Jane's hand, ensuring the detective that she had little problem with it. "Just drop me off at home first. The guys always treat me like I'm a hot potato now."

"And you're sure you don't mind? What if something happens?"

Jane didn't want to voice her real worry. Despite Dean's assurance that the woman was held to the same standards of morality as Cisco reportedly followed, she knew the risk of Maura – now pregnant and even more vulnerable – was still far too high for her tastes. It wouldn't be the first time her work and personal life had melded together against her will.

Maura grabbed the iPod connected to the radio. She quickly flipped through the album covers of the various artists of their combined musical interests. "Bart's not going to run out of my uterus because you aren't cooing sweet nothings to him. We'll be fine. If something isn't right, I know the drill. Call Angela first and, if she doesn't answer, call Tommy or my mother." The blonde clapped her hands like an amused child. "Michael Bublé's 'Can't Buy Me Love' is just divine. You know I heard he's coming to Boston for his tour… Do you think Dr. Rose would sign off on seeing a concert when I'm 8 months pregnant?"

"Maura," Jane said, ignoring the musings of her goofy girlfriend. "If anything happens at home when I'm gone…"

"What's going to happen? Ohh, I know. You bought me something, and you want it to be a surprise." Maura gave the detective a friendly poke on her toned arm. "I love surprises. So…what did you get? I hope it wasn't more baby clothes. I went a little crazy in that department. Elias gave me a website for bespoke newborn items. I just couldn't resist, especially after seeing the monogramming details available on the cloth diapers that match the adorable little Egyptian cotton onesies. Bart is going to be just to die for when he's born. Like a mini-George Clooney in the making. Mother is talking about buying me a Hermes diaper bag while she's in Paris but leather can be so difficult to clean…."

Jane sighed. She began to back-up from the parking space. The Aston waited at the exit for an opportunity to ease into traffic. "I'm serious, Maura. I want you to be careful."

"You're right. Bart could have a cotton allergy or an allergy to the dyes normally used on cotton products. Oh my god, I'm going to have to return everything. And what about the polyester? Allergies to synthetic fibers are statistically higher than natural fibers…"

Damn, pregnancy brain, Jane thought. Maura was becoming as absent-minded as Lydia…on a good day. She knew it would eventually pass with time but now wasn't the time for the blonde to be tipsy on endorphins or whatever hormones were running through her system in preparation for childbirth. If Oscar had as many connections as had been alluded to with Eric's retelling of his years spent in Vegas, the risk to Maura and their unborn child was even higher.

Jane turned her attention from the road to Maura as they stopped at a stoplight. The blonde was happily bobbing her head to the music, pigtails moving in perfect counter rhythm. As the soothing pop-jazz melody surrounded them, she couldn't suppress a frown.

"Maura, you're not even listening."

"Yes, I am. You're being overprotective, as usual."

"Just…," Jane ran her hands through her loose curls with a heavy sigh, "be careful, for me. I want you to call me if anyone comes over to the house that isn't familiar."

"Should I keep the doors locked and the curtains shut?"

"Promise me, honey. Can't you just do it for me?"

After a brief moment listening to the music as the car sliced through the heavy traffic with ease, Maura gave the pleading detective a disapproving look before shaking her head reluctantly. "Fine… I _promise_ that I'll lock our unborn child and I in the house until you get home."

"Be serious."

"Jane, I'm on an endorphin high. This is as serious as I can get. You can thank Thom for that." Maura caressed her swollen stomach with a beaming smile, radiating with maternal love. "But I can assure you that I'm being completely serious. Do you want to pinky swear on it?"

Jane rolled her eyes. She returned her attention back to the road, enjoying the feeling of the powerful machine waiting on her to unleash all of its power onto the pavement. The song changed to Radiohead's "Optimistic", but with a quick move Maura changed the music to one of her personal favorites.

"Oh c'mon," Jane said exasperatedly. "Remember the rule about the driver getting to pick the music for trips less than ten miles? You're totally breaking that rule."

Maura tilted her head. "You love Sade. Remember when you told me how much you adore John Coltrane's concert last spring?"

"I just said that to get in your pants, Maura."

Maura gasped in disbelief. "You lied?"

Staring into the blonde's mesmerizing hazel eyes, Jane felt her resolve crumpling before the silent but deadly strategy used often by her intelligent lover. All of the tactics she had learned in the academy to manipulate suspects into confessing had little to no effect on Maura and her honest, abundantly caring demeanor.

"Fine, honey. I like listening to John Coltrane, but I can't do Sade in the Aston. Her voice and the saxophone ruin the whole flow of driving not to mention every time I listen to 'The Sweetest Taboo' my mind goes off on pleasurable tangents. You are always getting on me about driving safer. Sade is detrimental to that goal."

Maura made a sound of disbelief. "Don't try to use my fun facts against me, Jane. I'd rather you have sexual fantasies of me over your tendency to drive so damn recklessly all the time. Life isn't a NASCAR race at Charlotte Speedway," she bantered back. "Besides, you know Bart enjoys listening to jazz almost as much as I do. Studies show that newborns that listen to music with high degrees of complexity have subsequent increases in IQ potential."

Jane rolled her eyes. Leave it Maura to find a fun fact in any situation. "So Coltrane is smart people music?"

Maura nodded with a big smile. "Not necessarily. Smartness is relative; intelligence is an absolute, based on known statistical data. Some would say that hip-hop has just as much potential for being high-brow as say Chopin, Coltrane, or Muddy Waters. Ask my father and he'd tell you that Bebel Gilberto is 'smart music'."

"Oh god, not Bebel Gilberto. I don't think I can handle all of her new age _bossa nova_ music no matter how smart your father thinks she is."

Jane shifted to a higher gear as she began to merge into the expressway to make their way home. It was a lot easier to go in the tunnel underneath the traffic heavy streets than trying to make her way through it, hoping for no accidents along the way. Knowing Boston traffic, however, their luck wouldn't be that considerate.

"You're the most ridiculous woman I have ever met," Jane said lovingly.

Maura giggled. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Of course not, sweetheart. Just another thing I've grown to love."

"And I love you too," Maura said. She moved to give the brunette a brief kiss but stopped as she noticed the speedometer rising steadily. "Jane, do you realize how fast you're going?"

Jane looked down. "About 70. Why'd you ask?"

"The speed limit is 65. Inside the tunnel, it lowers to 55. And you don't look like you're about to slow down."

"So? I'm a cop. The last thing the Highway Patrol is going to do is pull over a detective or a medical examiner." Jane rolled her eyes at the thought. "The police pulling over the police is just ridiculous."

Maura shook her head. She motioned toward her stomach with a frown. "You're making me nervous which means Bart's going to be nervous."

One look at her lover's face and Jane reluctantly lowered her speed before entering the tunnel. There wasn't much point in arguing. Bart's safety came first. The need to protect and nurture their unborn child was impossible for Jane to ignore. Sometimes she forgot but Maura always made sure to remind her in that cheery, slightly aggravating way unique only to her. Lately, however, Jane was doing less forgetting and more reminding Maura to be careful with how she handled her body for the baby's safety.

Oh no…I'm turning into my worst nightmare, my ma. Jane cringed at the image, yet proud at her own changes into the mother and lover she had to be for Bart and Maura.

-/-/-/-/-/-

Back in her hotel, Oscar sat on the corner of the marble bathtub in a fluffy pink robe. Her long bleached blonde locks were carefully slung up on her head in an elaborate knot, black coloring dye turning her hair into a river of shadows. She knew for what she planned the disguise would be little more than a cursory obstacle to prevent her identity from being recognized from a determined pursuer, but it would do. A temporary disguise was better than none at all.

As she waited for the dye to take, the former blonde flipped through a small journal filled with various names and numbers of those who owed her a debt. There was one name in particular that struck her fancy. She quickly memorized the number before returning it to the high-tech, secure briefcase that she always kept nearby to deliver friendly reminders to those who knew to expect her call.

Oscar typed in the phone number, waiting for him to pick up. He wouldn't dare let it go to voicemail. "We need to meet," she said simply upon hearing the gruff greeting on the other end. "Clear your schedule."

The voice sighed heavily. "I'd prefer to do this on the phone, Grey. I have responsibilities here that can't be rearranged on your schedule."

"I highly doubt that," Oscar said coldly. "I need information on a couple of detectives. I'd figure you'd be the best to call given your…connection."

"Who do you need?" the voice asked reluctantly, as if being asked to pull his teeth with a pair of pliers.

Oscar smiled. "Sgt. Korsak; Officer Frankie Rizzoli; and Detectives Frost, Cooper, and, most importantly, Jane Rizzoli."

"No, I can't," the voice replied, balking away from the request. "You can't think that I can just hand over their files. Confidential usually means not for public viewing."

"I don't think you understand me, Lieutenant. I _need_ the information on your detectives. If I don't get it from you, please, by all means, direct me to someone who's more inclined to do so." Oscar said, looking at the clock at the wall in boredom. "But I really don't want to have to do that. Our relationship concerning your family is…unique. I'd hate for your career to go down the drain because of a little slip of the tongue to my contacts at the Boston Globe concerning that mess."

The voice released another sigh, this time with underlying frustration. "I hate this. Being under your thumb like some errand boy… It's not fair, Grey, and you know it."

"Favors don't come cheap," Oscar growled. She was starting to get very annoyed at his recalcitrant attitude. "Especially favors involving children. Get me the files."

"I _can't_. How many times do I have to say it?"

Oscar clutched the rim of the bathtub. "Then send me the files with a ten minute read-and-delete option."

"And what if I don't send it?"

Oscar laughed darkly. "How'd you like it if that case involving your son and wife burned in that fire was reopened? I think it would surprise a lot of people to learn that the lieutenant of homicide had a hand in his family's death."

"Fine, fine," the voice said. "I'm sending it to you right now. What the hell are you planning with my detectives, Grey?"

"Nothing that need concern you, Lieutenant." Oscar stood up and turned the shower on after setting the temperature to sizzling hot, just as she liked. "Just focus on the job I just gave you."

-/-/-/-/-/-

Controlled chaos met the detective as she entered the safe-house. All of the agents buzzed with restrained energy. Jane grabbed a quick coffee from the downstairs kitchen before galloping upstairs to meet Dean, her senses tingling in excitement. Hearing the commotion generating from the tech room, she walked into the busy space, immediately recognizing Dean at a nearby monitor in the middle of the action, directing everyone with practiced ease.

"Dean," Jane raised her arm in greeting, "what's going on?"

Dean looked up at the brunette and motioned for her to come over. "You know the composite image we created of Oscar and those video stills?"

"Sure, what about it?"

"One of the techies suggested using it in the facial recognition software to see if we can get a match in the federal or state databases. We're going to give it a shot. We've got nothing to lose," Dean explained. He moved a chair covered in various nerd paraphernalia for Jane to sit next to him. "We might have a lot of names to go through. The software can be imprecise when you don't need it to be."

Jane took a swig of the black swill, frowning at the sweet aftertaste. The feds must like their coffee with sugar. It hardly surprised the detective given how many double and triple shifts these guys must be doing to keep the edge on Bone, Cisco, and now Oscar. With a frown, she handed the cup over to Dean.

"I'll call Frost to come help us out. We'll get it done much faster if we look through it instead of relying on those who aren't in the loop." Jane took out her phone to text Frost. She sighed of relief upon seeing that Maura hadn't called her about any unexpected visitors. It might just be her intense desire to protect, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something horrible was going to happen. Jane hoped her premonition wouldn't become a reality.

-/-/-/-/-/-

"Oh. My. God!" Maura exclaimed, clapping her hands in excitement like an overjoyed child. The custom made onesies and other baby clothes with Bartholomew's name written across the lime-green fabric in dramatic script from the UPS box caught the light as she turned the every which way, entranced at the beautiful craftsmanship of the fabric. "These turned out so great. I can't wait to see your face when you wear them for the first time. You'll be the cutest baby the world has seen… Won't that be fabulous, Thom?"

Maura smiled at the feeling of Bart stirring at the sound of the special nickname she had given him. As much as she enjoyed calling the baby by his given name, she enjoyed having another, far more personal nickname for these sort of special moments spent between the two of them. Jane just thought it was amusing, accepting the nickname as yet another adorable quirk of her girlfriend.

"The cashmere is so smooth to the touch. I figured you would like natural fibers over artificial elements, Thom."

Bart kicked in agreement, enjoying his mother's voice. Maura folded the lime-green onesie, placing it on a corresponding pile next to her on the living room sofa. She intended to organize them first before making the increasingly difficult trek upstairs to the baby's room. For the last couple of weeks, Jane had been helping her out with most of the heavy lifting but Maura refused to just wait around like an invalid.

Maura exhaled loudly, wiping sweat from her brow. "You and I can do this all by ourselves."

Suddenly, the sound of a polite knocking came from across the room at the door. Maura frowned, wondering who was at the door. She stood up, thinking it was the UPS man with another drop-off, but immediately remembered Jane's words about calling her if anyone came over unannounced. As long as it was the UPS man, she didn't see why she should call. He certainly wasn't a stranger; he knew her on a first name basis with how often he dropped by with box after box of clothes and whatnot.

Looking out the peephole, she saw a beautiful woman with jet black hair, warm hazel eyes, and an expensive business suit. The woman couldn't possibly be much older than herself but something about her gaze marked a level of experience rarely seen. Dark circles under intense amber eyes confirmed the endless amount of practice that enabled her to gain such experience in such a short time. But the subtle exhaustion in her eyes reminded Maura that the woman had paid the price for her bevy of knowledge.

_She's obviously seen a lot…_

The woman at the door, as if feeling Maura's presence, knocked in the same pleasant way. She jumped in shock, unsure of what to do. This was definitely a stranger, but Maura hardly thought of her as a real threat.

"Umm," Maura stuttered awkwardly. She looked back and forth at the door and her forgotten cell phone like a child caught with its hand in the cookie jar. Feeling his mother's bubbling tension, Bart fluttered endlessly within his mother's womb. "I'll be just a minute."

Maura stumbled over to her phone. She hit the speed dial button for Jane and waited patiently for her to pick up.

"Rizzoli," Jane said in a gruff, serious voice. The sound of Van Halen's _Panama_ echoed slightly into the earpiece with the sound of a man groaning in pain.

"Jane, it's me."

The loud sounds died away before Jane replied, "Honey, what's wrong? You sound worried. Is the baby alright?"

"A woman in a black suit is at the door."

"What does she look like? Hair, eyes, all the details, sweetheart," Jane said, struggling to keep her concern under control.

"Umm…black hair, orange-brown eyes, tall, drop dead gorgeous. Is that bad?" Maura waited quietly for Jane to give her some sort of response that would alleviate the anxiety running rampant in her veins. The baby, in tuned to his mother's changing moods, also seemed to be looking for a way out, his kicking and pushing against her swollen stomach nearly unbearable.

It's okay, Thom, Maura thought. Mommy's here. Everything will be okay. Jane and I will take care of you.

Jane sighed heavily in relief. "Nothing to worry about. Thanks for calling me, sweetheart. I'll call you later, alright? I love you."

"Love you more," Maura replied. As she hung up with a relaxed smile, Bart also began to calm down.

Maura waddled back to the door. She opened it and nearly felt her jaw drop at the woman standing on her front steps. _God, she's beautiful. Someone clearly got a good roll of the genetic dice._

"Hello," the woman greeted with a smile. "My name is Silvia Grey and I'm working for the Historic Boston Community Improvement Board, HBCIB for short. The government loves their alphabet soup nonsense." The two women laughed briefly in agreement. "We're currently trying to improve Beacon Hill's resident satisfaction by providing them with a detailed list of potential projects to get more people involved in celebrating the historic nature of the neighborhood. Would you like to participate? The survey won't take long."

Maura frowned. "I'm not sure…"

Silvia made a slight gasp of shock. "Oh my god, I'm so stupid. You're pregnant, aren't you?"

"Yes," Maura said, smiling slightly. "Six months."

"A boy?"

Maura nodded. "How did you know?"

"Just figured I'd make a guess. I had a fifty-fifty shot." Silvia flung her long hair over her shoulder with a practiced flick of the wrist. "Listen, I can totally understand not wanting to do this. Just between you and me," she leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially, "my boss put me on this against my will. He seriously wants to get rid of me. Says I'm going to ruin his marriage or something like that."

Maura giggled. She always enjoyed having girl-time, gossiping and telling stories about the hot guys on the polo team back in her boarding school days. Being pregnant and stuck in the house most of the time made her love it even more.

"Honestly, he's barking up the wrong tree with little ol' me breaking up his marriage. My girlfriend nearly passed out from laughing so hard when I told her that," Silvia said. "Men… I swear, they honestly think women are like the devil sent from the heavens to get exclusively in their way."

Maura smiled. Her uneasiness with the visitor evaporated with each second spent looking into the jet-black beauty's mesmerizing eyes. "How long have you been out here?" The blonde looked up at the oppressing sunlight radiating heat upon them. "It's too hot to be running around asking for surveys. That's a beautiful suit, but it has to be uncomfortable."

Silvia shook her head melodramatically. "I knew I should have left my YSL in the closet."

"Would you…like to come in for some tea? I'd be happy to fill out a survey for you if you'd like?"

Silvia smiled darkly. "Of course, I'd love too." She walked into the wide open door behind Maura, taking in the space as if there would be a test on it in the future. "I've been meaning to ask you… Do you know Jane Rizzoli?"

"Of course, she's my wife…in the common-law sense," Maura replied, closing the door behind Silvia. "Why do you ask?"

"I've just heard so much about her."

The door closed behind the mysteriously beautiful woman, trapping the wolf with its chosen prey. Maura was completely clueless of the dangers that awaited her and her unborn child with the arrival of Silvia on her doorstep.


	31. Chapter 31

-/-/-Chapter 31-/-/-

Maura teeter-tottered from the kitchen to the living room where Silvia sat, her impossibly long legs crossed, flipping through blank surveys with manicured nails. Finding the page she wanted, her pen bobbled irresistibly between her lithe fingers as she controlled the pen across the paper. The woman looked up briefly from her work and, before Maura could process what was afoot, strode across the small space to take the glasses in a gesture of chivalry.

Maura blinked in shock, amazed at how fast the woman could move in her expensive black heels. She felt her body began to wobble in response, but Silvia quickly extended her arm to help the pregnant woman regain her equilibrium. "Thanks, I can be so clumsy sometimes," Maura said bashfully. "Bart is making things so difficult on me."

"Bart…" Silvia's eyes lowered toward Maura's swollen stomach. "Is… Is that the baby's name?"

With a grin, Maura nodded as Silvia helped them reach the sofa. Her strong arms and body provided a much needed counter-balance as she rested against the unfamiliar woman. Maura couldn't help the sigh of relief that released from her throat as she plopped down on the soft fabric, gladly taking the proffered glass of ice-cold, green drink. Silvia joined the blonde, crossing those beautifully long legs for a second time.

Maura nodded. "Yes, it's one of Jane's family traditions. I'm not that big on tradition usually, but since I'd chosen his middle name, I figured she should, at the very least, pick his first name, out of fairness and all."

As the words left her lips, Maura knew she was being far too friendly to the new stranger. Her mother hadn't really taught her much – Mother was a firm believer in a free-form parenting style with little emphasis on hard set guidance – but her father had always reinforced in her a healthy need to always watch out for those who wanted to take advantage of her monetary means and occasional naiveté. He never wanted his daughter to lose perspective regarding her privileged place in the world just because of her last name. Given how disconnected she felt from her adoptive parents at an early age, Maura had never had an issue with breaking away from the mental mindset of those living in the gilded cages of luxury and wealth yet something about the mysterious beauty sitting in her living room set off alarms in her head.

Discussing her private life concerning Jane and Bart with Silvia felt wrong. It felt like the time when she had gone out with the local bad boy of the boarding school. That short lived burst of rebellion hadn't gone well, resulting in her nearly getting expelled for breaking curfew to go on a night ride on his Vincent Black Shadow. But something about the jet-black and tempestuous amber eyes of the supermodel lookalike encouraged Maura to set aside those reservations nagging in the back of her consciousness.

She just seems so nice, Maura thought, devoid of suspicion. When she thought of risk, Silvia certainly didn't come to mind. From her experience working as a medical examiner, Maura had seen her share of shady characters and Silvia Grey definitely didn't fit the bill. Even Jane would've agreed that the woman couldn't be some kind of a crazed killer or bank robber.

Half of her mind told her to reach out for her forgotten phone on the table next to the half-emptied box of Bart's new things. All she had to do was call Jane and tell her what she was feeling. Jane would know what to do in a situation like this. She would tell her if Silvia was really a threat or not.

"Does Bart stand for Bartholomew?" Silvia asked, interjecting Maura's inner dialogue. "That's an unusual name. Not too many Bartholomews walking around. But I like it. It's a very strong, sophisticated name, perfect for a boy."

Maura couldn't help but smile. The baby fluttered in response to the compliment. "Well, he says thank you. You better quit it with the compliments or this survey will have to be cut short." She motioned toward the glass in Silvia's hand as the woman sipped the drink casually. "I didn't have any iced tea. Jane must have guzzled it down last night. I hope limeade is okay? I got the recipe from a friend. It can be awfully sour."

Right on cue, Silvia made a sour face, placing the glass back on the table. "I think you might be right. It's a little too sour for me, I'm afraid. Sour things never work well with my taste buds."

"I'm so sorry. I can get you something else…"

Silvia shook her head. "No, that's fine. It would be better if we started the survey. I don't want to overstay my welcome." She turned her attention to the survey before her, taking the pen in her hand. "So…on with the preliminaries. Would you care to tell me your name and the number of people living in the household?"

"My name's Maura Isles and I live here with my girlfriend. Her name is Jane Rizzoli. It's just me and her at the moment but we have the baby coming along so I guess that would make three residents."

Silvia nodded, her hand scribbling madly. "And your professions?"

"We both work at Boston Police Department," Maura replied. "I'm the chief medical examiner for the greater commonwealth of Massachusetts and Jane is a homicide detective. She's one of the few female homicide detectives in the unit's history." She took a picture of the two of them at a medal ceremony from over two years ago. Maura had been so proud of Jane back then for saving Boston from the infamous serial killer known as The Heartbreaker. It showed in the picture. Even Jane had managed to show a rare inkling of pride for her actions on the day as she took picture after picture with the mayor, commissioner, and the district attorney. "Here's a picture of her. She looks kind of like you, in some ways."

Silvia took the picture, narrowing her eyes. "Yes…she does," she muttered in a near whisper. "She's got strong eyes. I think she'd die before letting someone close to her get hurt."

"Well…she can be a little bulldog when she wants to be," Maura said, unable to restrain her pride for the detective.

Silvia stared at the picture, completely fascinated by Jane, wearing her dress blues with an uncomfortable smile. Maura could do nothing but watch, unsure of how to respond to the obsessive focus written across the jet-black beauty's face. A brief flash of a smirk crossed the woman's face before the mask of her character as a young, friendly pollster resumed its place.

"Jane must care for you a lot."

Maura grinned. "She damn well should, we've been together long enough."

Silvia laughed quietly, her mind distracted with other concerns. "I can't believe a veritable hero has been in the neighborhood without so much as a celebration of appreciation from the community."

"Ohh…please don't plan anything. Jane gets so uncomfortable with public displays of, well, anything. She's very private."

Silvia smiled in understanding. "It's alright. With the government cutting back on everything with a monetary value, I don't think there will be much of anything in regards to a parade anytime soon." She jumped slightly at the feel of her cell phone vibrating loudly in her purse. Silvia took the offending device out of her pocket with a frown. Upon noticing the name flashing on the screen, she cursed under her breath. "Sorry, Dr. Isles. I have to take this. My boss is being a horny bastard again. And he wonders why his wife wants to divorce his ass… You don't mind if I cut this survey short?"

"No," Maura said, standing up awkwardly to walk Silvia to the door, "I don't mind. It was lovely having someone new come by for a visit."

Silvia walked to the door. "It was my pleasure. But do you think you could do me a small favor?"

"Of course."

"Could you tell Jane that I really enjoyed meeting you? I really wish she could have been here. It would have been so nice to meet the woman who's such a hero," Silvia said, flashing her white teeth in beaming grin. "I wish you and your unborn child the utmost health and happiness. You should be very happy to have such a wonderful family."

-/-/-/-/-/-

After yet another miserable hour of sorting through files of various individuals who had been pinged as a possible ringer to Oscar, Jane had reluctantly trudged back to the break room for another cup of sickly sweet motor oil the feds called coffee. She was sad to say that the taste hadn't improved. Even Frost, who could drink pretty much anything, had a hard time denying how awful the thick sludge was.

"Hey," a familiar voice called out from the entryway behind her. Jane frowned at Dean's typical moody appearance. Seeing his brooding expression for over an hour was getting to be exhausting to her already frazzled nerves.

"I'm allowed to have a break, Dean. Working me until I drop isn't how I do business."

Dean smirked. "We found a match."

Jane felt her face drop in a melodramatic expression of shock. Her hand continued to stir even more granules of sugar into the cup of coffee, knowing it would do little to prevent it from tasting like liquid shit. "Is that supposed to be exciting? We've been getting false matches all day." Jane held out the steaming cup with a pout. "I'll bet you fifty dollars that I can take this down in one shot without gagging. What do you say?"

"Why waste the money on a bet I'm sure to lose?" Dean replied. "We've spent far too much time in the back of that van in the middle of the night playing poker for me to make that mistake. I already owe you three-hundred as is."

Jane rolled her eyes. "Have some gumption," she said, lifting the cup to her mouth. Just a brief taste of its contents nearly made her retch. "Vomit… See? You could have lowered your debt if you had some initiative." Jane dumped the coffee into the kitchen drain before throwing the cup into the trash with a revengeful smile. "But wait…if you got a match, why aren't you upstairs?"

Dean shrugged as he rummaged around the open box of donuts for a powdered. Finding one, he popped the sweet treat in his eager face, leaving a comical moustache of white sugary powder below his nose. "Frost is handling it and I was hungry. Am I not allowed to take a snack break, Detective? I can't work until I drop either."

"Smart-ass," Jane said with a smile. She made her way back upstairs to the command room where they had been working diligently with the techies. Frost seemed to be enjoying the time spent with the feds team of nerds, geeks, and socially quirky individuals. He jumped eagerly from chair to chair to share the latest technological achievement with his fellow computer nerds even as he worked the facial recognition software for their needs.

When his partner walked into the room, Frost beckoned her forward with a wave. Jane approached the young detective with a raised eyebrow. "Dean said we've got another match?"

"Yep, this one looks like a good one though." Frost turned the monitor so Jane could see. "Her name is Silvia Grey. She works at some big, fancy management firm that handles her deceased father's cocoa fields in Brazil. From preliminary searches, the cocoa grown there is used throughout the confectionary industries across the world. Apparently he gave the business to her on her seventeenth birthday."

Jane took one look at the picture and saw why Frost thought the woman was the one they had spent so long looking for. Her blonde hair fell illustriously into her amber eyes, a confident smirk demanding the full attention of anyone lucky – or unlucky? – enough to gaze upon her beauty. Something about the mystery woman gave Jane pause… What was it?

Dean came in, munching on a candy bar, while Jane inspected the picture. "The facial recognition software came back with a sixty-five percent match. She fits the bill to me, but until Frankie and Riley can come by to confirm, we're on ice."

"Frost," Jane began as her eyes continued to glare suspiciously at the picture, "can you manipulate her image?"

"Sure. What exactly do you need me to do?"

Jane ran her hand through her tangled loose curls with a nervous sigh, dreading the words that would come. She tried to remember the exact words that Maura had used to describe the visitor who she had called her about. An instinctual feeling told her that it was vitally important to recall each and every word her lover had said concerning the woman.

"God, I wish I knew," she muttered, avoiding the issue. "What about changing her hair color?"

Frost raised an eyebrow. "Any specific color range I should be looking at or do you want to go for the rainbow I'm-Using-Instagram-For-The-First-Time vibe?"

"Ha-ha, very funny," Jane frowned. "Change it to black, darkest black you got."

Turning back to the screen, Frost quickly cropped the photo and manipulated the image to fit his partner's request. Silvia's hair turned jet-black yet the overall feeling of confidence still remained. Nothing got Jane's attention, at first, but the connection between the images didn't immediately register. Each second of silence that passed brought her ever closer to the knowledge that seemed to be resting perilously close to her consciousness, waiting for her to reach out and make the connection. As fast as she struggled to run toward the shining star in her mind, her brain slowed down even further while the object of her mind's focus continued to elude her grasp.

Blonde hair to black, amber eyes, a powerful gaze…could this Silvia really be her? But if it really was her…

"Oh my god…she's at my house with my wife and kid."

Dean laughed. "C'mon, Jane. The pranks are getting a little old, don't you think. You must be delirious from the coffee. Why would Silvia be in your house with Maura?"

Jane shook her head. Her mind was focused on contacting Maura to make sure everything was alright, nothing else mattered. Dean's nonsensical questions were just white noise. "I don't know, Dean. I could give a rat's ass why she's there. I just…," her breathing stopped expectantly as her lungs closed in fear, "need go to Maura and my son. _Right now_."

"I'll send a team over," Dean replied. He removed his cell from his pocket to send a text to his team of feds ready to go in case of an emergency.

Jane extended her shaking hand, already halfway out the door. "No, I have to go. They're my family. It's my responsibility to protect them, not yours," she said, looking desperately around the room with wild eyes. "God, please let her and Bart be alright. I don't know what I'll do if they're hurt. Why didn't I put a protective detail on them?"

"I feel like I'm missing a piece of this story, Detective."

"I don't have time to explain, Gabriel!"

"Then I'm coming with you," Dean said, grabbing his suit coat.

Jane gave the agent a look of complaint but reluctantly accepted his offer. They nodded in agreement and exited the command room in a flash, leaving Frost behind.

God, I hope she's okay, Jane thought anxiously, her mind a blur of fear, worry, and anger. Maura tended toward blind naiveté given her propensity to care for everyone and anyone with or without a heartbeat. It was one of the many things the detective had fell in love with back when they were still having platonic sleepovers and wine tasting parties. But the idea that the woman she loved more than life and their unborn child were left alone with a potential killer acting on the behalf of her boss smuggling drugs into and out of the United States was beyond terrifying.

_Maura…don't worry, I'm coming. I won't let anything hurt you or our child. _

Jane cursed her stupidity for not being more cautious when Maura had called earlier about the unexpected visitor. The blonde and their unborn baby needed to be undisturbed by potential stress. Being held under duress in a potential kidnapping situation was nothing but stress. This was all her fault. She shouldn't have left Maura today, not today. Maybe she could have stopped all of this before it happened. Maybe…she could have protected them better.

Damn it, Jane cursed. She better be okay or I swear…Oscar or Silvia or whatever her fucking name is going to have to deal with me. I'll rip this entire town to shreds until I find her.

-/-/-/-/-/-

"Jesus Christ, Jane," Dean screamed, holding onto the door handle of the unmarked with clenched fists. "I know you're worried but c'mon. Don't you think you're pushing it a little too hard?"

"My family is in danger, Dean."

A car behind them honked in protest as Jane continued to blaze through crowded intersections like a bat out of hell. As much as Dean wanted to turn back to wish the offended driver his apologies, he knew the force of the brunette's speed and reckless drifting in and out of lanes would have given him whiplash. On top of everything else, he had little desire to add sick pay to the list.

As they just managed to skid into yet another side alley, Dean managed to turn his head enough to see the detective clench her jaw rhythmically for the fiftieth time since they had fought over who was going to drive. Jane's hands were as white as her pale face, anxiety written plainly on her face. Despite knowing how important family was to the detective, he couldn't understand why she was taking on all of the responsibility for this mistake happening. It was unfortunate that Maura had been dragged into this mess, but that was just one of the many risks of getting involved in a deep undercover assignment like this. The importance of staying calm during these scenarios couldn't be understated.

"Jane…she'll be fine. Maura's probably at home, drinking lemonade, and enjoying the weather."

Despite his sympathetic words, Jane was having none of his pity. "I just don't understand how could she have found out about Maura? I've never once brought her into this. For someone who follows a criminal with a so-called moral code, Oscar has some balls getting my family into this. She's pregnant for godssakes. How is she supposed to defend herself? Recite fun facts until Oscar begs for mercy?"

"Cisco has a lot of connections, Jane," Dean said, ignoring the nearly sideswiped Audi parked next to the street as they gunned out of the darkened alley. Several hipsters standing next to their bicycles had to dodge and weave away comically from the focused detective's crazed driving skills. "It's not such a big stretch to think that Oscar has access to those same connections."

"But why? Why would she do this?" Jane growled.

Dean shrugged, grabbing the phone rattling around in the cup holder. "Did you call her?"

"She didn't pick up. Knowing her, she probably forgot it somewhere. Maura's been really forgetful lately with the baby taking up most her attention."

With a sudden bump of the tires hitting the curb next to Maura and Jane's townhouse, Dean could barely blink before the detective had put the car in park and flung out the door and into the house, trusty gun in hand. By the time he could process Jane's actions, he could do little more than follow behind her in a similar stance with his own SIG Sauer ready to take on any danger that presented itself. He hoped he wouldn't have to use it. The sound of Jane's anxious cries echoed into his ears, putting fear into his own heart.

"Honey, where are you?" Jane's strong voice boomed over and over, begging for a reply.

A brief silence followed before Dean could hear the answering reply, "Jesus…Maura, don't scare me like that. Why didn't you answer me earlier? Dean, everything is fine. She's in here."

Dean stalked inside the open door with gun aimed at the ready while his eyes took in the scene wearily. He held his body in a defensive crouch despite Jane's claim, his training forcing him to be on his guard until he had determined the diminished threat with his own eyes. Cisco had proven to be quite tricky in the past. For all he knew, this could be an elaborate ruse to get him off-guard, forcing the three of them to be held hostage by the right-hand man – or, in this case, woman – of an international drug smuggler with known high-ranking connections.

As Dean rounded the corner of the foyer, he released a blessed sigh of relief. Jane was standing over Maura, checking her for any injuries. The blonde seemed mostly confused by all of the attention and fuss, more concerned with her interrupted yoga session. Relaxing strains of atmospheric melodies floated throughout the room as golden-orange light from the open blinds painted the home in an energetic glow. The smell of green tea wafted through the room from the kitchen as a fresh brew cooled off near the stove. In the background, the classical notes coming from the stereo speakers put a final nail in the coffin concerning the earlier anxiety of Maura's safety. Everything just seemed even more domestically perfect in the fading daylight. Nothing could be wrong in a scene so blissfully beautiful.

"Jane…," Maura began awkwardly, "What's wrong? Did the case shatter?"

"You mean 'break'?" Dean frowned.

Maura smiled at the agent standing uncomfortably near the foyer. "Thank you for clarifying, Dean. It's so lovely to see you."

"Are you alright? Did she hurt you or the baby?" Jane asked, interrupting the conversation.

"Bart and I are fine. He's kicking like a champ. It's all that masculine energy he inherited from you." Maura laughed, completely oblivious to the risk she had been put in. "But I think the music is starting to calm him down. But who is this she you keep referring to? I don't understand-"

Dean stepped forward into the dimming light. "Maura, I hate to interrupt, but we need to talk to you about the woman who came by earlier. She might have gone by an alias but her name is Silvia Grey, alias Oscar Grey. We believe she might be the key to our case."

Maura returned her attention back to Jane. All of the confusion in her eyes was met with nothing more than the professional mask of the detective and not the warm gaze of her lover. With an awkward series of movements, Maura stood up from the tangerine yoga mat with a frown, pushing away Jane's offer to help.

"I think it's about time you tell me everything that's been going on, Jane."


	32. Chapter 32

-/-/-Chapter 32-/-/-

The entire story involving the operation flowed off of Jane's tongue as if she was telling Maura about the weather. Dean assisted when necessary with specific facts concerning the operation, but otherwise the man stayed out of the conversation, keeping a respectful distance from the couple. She valued his choice. As the story shifted toward Silvia, the detective could see the hurt beginning to build behind Maura's eyes, hardly hidden given her tendency to show every emotion she felt on her face.

She's hurt, and she has every right to be, Jane thought ruefully. Everything about the operation had fallen to the back of her mind with the baby. She had made a conscious decision to not tell Maura about Oscar's arrival, figuring there wasn't any reason to do so without more concrete information on hand. It was more important to ensure her family's safety by keeping the blonde relaxed and calm and telling her about all of the chaos going on with the feds seemed contrary to that goal.

Finishing the entire summary of events, Jane released a heavy sigh, unsure of how to respond to Maura's disapproval. Instead of a frown, she just looked right through the detective as if she was nothing more than a body filling a space in her home instead of her lover and best friend. Jane would have been able to take any kind of punishment Maura dealt out…except this. Seeing the conflict brimming between them, Dean coughed.

"In all honesty, I don't think Oscar wanted to hurt you. This was probably just wanted to scare us into making a mistake and revealing our hand. From our intelligence, Cisco follows a moral code. He wouldn't kill an innocent or a child. It's highly unlikely that someone on his payroll wouldn't abide by his rules," Dean said.

Maura ignored his comment, focusing her unrelenting glare on her lover. "I'm more scared that she knows that _you're_ working this case. If she can figure out where you live, who you're living with, what does that say about Frankie and Riley being in the field? She probably knows about them too."

"It's highly unlikely-"

"Of course it is, Dean. Jane will protect them from harm. She does so well with that, doesn't she?" Maura interrupted bitterly, venom dripping from each syllable.

Jane cowered in response. Just listening to the rare anger coloring her girlfriend's tone made her feel like hiding in a cave. "Maura…listen to me. Everything is going to be fine. Dean's going to call up a protective detail around the house. They'll follow you around, keep you on constant watch-"

"I wish you wouldn't do this," Maura snarled, interrupting the conversation for a second time. Even Dean felt the heat burning from the normally cool and collected medical examiner.

Jane was completely clueless. "Wish I wouldn't do what?"

"Treat me like I'm some kind of porcelain doll. Sometimes…sometimes I wonder why you haven't locked me up in a glass case."

"Maura…"

"Stop protecting me all the time. I can protect myself just fine," Maura spat out, emphasizing each syllable. She lowered a hand toward her swollen stomach as if to reassure Bart that her angry tone wasn't directed at him. "Jane, I know you can't help taking charge of things like this. Being a protector of your family is a part of your personality that I fell in love with. Feeling safe with someone I love, knowing you'd always be there for me…I'm always thankful for having you in my life. But I need you to remember that I'm not just another thing you have to protect. I'm your girlfriend, your wife, and the mother of your child. Bart needs me to have equal charge over protecting him from harm. It's hard for me to assume that responsibility when you won't even tell me about the threats that could potentially hurt me or our child."

In response to the deluge of inner dialogue that spouted from Maura's lips, Jane could do nothing but drop her jaw in utter bewilderment. The last time she had been this emotional was when Clementine died. As the calm green flecks within her eyes sizzled away, leaving nothing but the light brown that overwhelmed the orbs when she got into these rare moods, Jane knew that all of her behavior from the last couple of months was coming back to haunt her. This was her just rewards for being so difficult with the baby and her feelings concerning the matter. The operation, Oscar, and Dean subsided into the background as Jane struggled to handle Maura's outburst.

"Maura…," Jane began, lifting a weak hand to give her lover some comfort. "I'm sorry?"

Maura shook her head. Tears fell from reddened eyes which the blonde made little effort to remove. She stood up from the couch, wobbling slightly with the speed of the movement. "You really are such a damn guy. I never thought I'd have to tell you not to say sorry if you don't know what you're supposed to be sorry for."

"Honey," Jane pleaded. "We can talk about this…"

In a final effort of pleading, Jane reached out to take Maura's hand. With a surprising turn of foot, Maura swung her hand, slapping her lover across the face. The resounding sound of flesh against flesh made Jane back up in shock even before the heated impression of the blonde's hand on her face began to welt and pulsate in time with her rampaging heartbeat. For a fleeting second, Maura looked at her hand in confusion as if frightened at her own ability to hurt another living being.

Shaking like a leaf in a cruel wind, Maura stepped back with blank eyes. "No, we're done here." She turned to Dean with a watery smile, unable to stop her feet from moving away from Jane's stunned expression. "It was so nice to see you again, Dean. I'm sorry for my display. My wife…she just doesn't get it."

Dean nodded weakly. Maura made her way upstairs, disappearing around the foyer with quiet footsteps. The once peaceful atmosphere of before shattered as the green tea leaves released their final bloom of aroma before dying out in the dark twilight returning to cover Boston in impenetrable shadows.

Dean took a risk by attempting to look at Jane's still figure to see how she was doing. Surprisingly, the tough- as-nails detective was near tears, sniffling loudly as she covered her reddened nose. Each breath she took into her lungs was met with a series of earthquakes reverberating through her entire body, clearly struggling to keep her cries of anguish within.

"Jane…you can stay if you need to," Dean said quietly.

Jane coughed to clear her throat, moving to close the blinds and roll up Maura's yoga mat as if in autopilot. Her hand couldn't stop feeling the hand shaped red bruise beginning to form on the left side of her face, shaking with each outline her trembling fingers made.

"No…she needs some alone time to figure her emotions out. She keeps things bottled up like this and sometimes they explode. Let her cool down first. I…we need to focus on Oscar and Bone. They're the only leads we've got to close this case up in our favor." Jane turned to the agent with a fierce expression, tears evaporated in the intensity of having something to focus her emotions on. "Put a protective detail on her. The full works. I don't care what it costs or the ethical dilemmas just get it done."

"Will do," Dean said. He took out his cell and tapped in a few numbers. "Anything else?"

Jane shook her head. "Tell each of them to introduce themselves to her and tell her everything she needs to know about why they're watching her."

"Everything is going to be fine, Jane."

"Let's get back to the safe-house. We've got nightshift in a couple of hours." Jane walked toward the door, slamming her hand on the small table nearest the door. "I swear to God, I'm going to get Cisco for pulling a stunt like this. I don't care how he and his cronies managed to get info on me. What's done is done. But Oscar's made a mistake getting my family involved in this. A terrible mistake."

-/-/-/-/-/-

Several hours later in the back of the van, on watch duty, Frost, Jane, and Dean sat together, trapped in their own individual thoughts. Frost was concerned about his quieter than usual partner who had gone all but mute ever since returning back from her house to deal with the threat of Oscar at her home. He still had no idea what had gone down but was glad that Maura was alright in the grand scheme of things.

Dean refused to say much about the matter, clamming up whenever Frost asked the agent anything specific. For once, the agent was claiming loyalty. Frost didn't know whether to applaud the man who would have normally discussed Jane's affairs out of bitter jealousy or strangle him in frustration for changing his tune all of a sudden.

Regardless, Frost did the only thing he could do: focus on the job in front of him. Catching Cisco may have gotten lost in the shuffle of chaos from earlier, but it couldn't stay that way for long. With the addition of Bone and Oscar, things were going to get crazy if they weren't on their game. They had to focus, no matter what came up to act as an obstacle to their goal.

"I still don't see him on the video feeds," Frost said. He frowned at the blank stills coming in from the numerous bugs they had installed nearly thirty floors above them in Bone's apartment. "You sure we should have taken Riley's lead about Bone being home alone tonight? 'Cause I don't see Bone anywhere in the house."

A silence answered him and Frost was forced to turn away from the screen. Both of his teammates seemed to be floating in their own minds, eyes glazed over. He cleared his throat loudly, tired of all of their ridiculous introspection. They had a job to do; drama at home can wait.

Upon hearing her partner, Jane shook her head away from the mental cobwebs. "Give it time. Riley told us that Bone called to let her know she wouldn't be needed because of business he had to attend to at home. Maybe he's running late. Traffic can be a bitch in Boston even in the middle of the night."

"Maybe he went out for a pint of froyo and lost track of time," Dean added humorously. His smart comment earned him a glare of disapproval from both Frost and Jane.

As much as Jane wanted to get out of the van, run back to Maura, and plead to be forgiven, she knew it would do little. She had been with the medical examiner for long enough to know that the woman rarely got mad, but when she did, it was best to leave her alone and let things breathe. Maura would let her know when she was ready to talk. She just had to wait – as much as waiting made her physically ill – the punishment out.

"Did you get anything on Silvia's file? The one from earlier?" Dean asked, interrupting Jane's thoughts. Just the brief mention of her name made her growl; the primal sound bellowing throughout the room like a lion on the prowl, marking its territory.

Frost raised an eyebrow at Jane's nonverbal threat. "If you count a complication as a lead, than yeah, we've got a big lead." He took out his tablet computer and isolated the problem for Dean. "As soon as I pushed further into her file, the NSA shut me down. Her file was marked restricted, utmost top secret. Didn't want to risk getting in trouble with the feds – even though you _are_ the feds – so I let it go."

"What?" Dean snatched the tablet from Frost's hands. "That can't be right… Why would her file be marked restricted? From the NSA, of all people? She can't possibly have contacts that reach that high…"

Jane ran a hand through her hair. "Break it down for us, Dean. What's this all mean?"

"Cisco has a lot more influence than I thought. He's used his contacts to basically make her invisible from any further investigation. The odds of being able to bring Oscar in for questioning are slim to none with a NSA operative and god knows who else on his payroll."

"You're kidding," Jane said in disbelief. "We've got her dead to rights. This Oscar woman is connected to our case, an international smuggling operation, and we can't bring her in for questioning? She's the best and only serious lead we've been able to scrounge up, Dean."

"Or look into her file," Frost added. "Don't forget about that."

"Regardless," Jane began with a smirk. "Look at the big picture. If we take a chance and don't move forward with our investigation into Oscar, I guarantee you that she'll be out of our hands when the shit hits the fan. She'll tell Cisco to get Bone the hell outta dodge, leaving us with nothing."

"And Oscar said something about him heading to Istanbul after Boston but who knows when that'll happen… If they both manage to leave, we'll be really shit outta luck on this case." Dean shook his head in frustration, leaning back in the swivel chair with closed eyes. "God…this really is a clusterfuck, first, Lea not contacting me back, then the whole Silvia/Oscar mess, and now this."

Jane perked up slightly at the sound of at a name she never thought she'd hear again. "Maybe she came to her senses and realized how much of an unnecessary risk it was to her career to sleep with you any longer."

"Woah," Frost exclaimed. "You were getting it in with one of your agents? And Lea, nonetheless? That girl was like Miss Glacier Queen. So that's the kind of girl you're into? Explains a lot."

Dean gasped in shock. Everyone, included his team of techies, were giving him a look of amused disbelief that he, of all people, had decided to break the rules for a hook-up with one of his fellow agents. As soon as they got back to the safe-house, it would be a matter of time before everyone knew about his private indiscretions. Thank you, Jane, he thought sarcastically.

Dean directed his glare toward the smug looking brunette. "Really? Was that necessary to share with everyone?"

"You make it seem like I yelled it out."

"You might as well have!" Dean screamed. "Your voice has the carrying power of a cowbell."

"Is that supposed to be an insult?"

Dean frowned. "What do you think?"

Before the two could continue to rile each other up as the techies watched in utter amusement, Frost cursed. Jane and Dean returned their attention back to the video feed streaming live from the bugs in Bone's apartment. The images seemed to be frozen in time. The techies also began to panic and, all at once, everyone next to a monitor began clicking and clacking rapidly on their keyboards, code flashing on each screen in a continuous stream of monochromatic green technological language.

"Frost," Jane said worriedly, leaning down to Frost's twitching shoulders. "What's wrong with the screens? They look broken."

"He must have brought his own tech team to back-extrapolate our reflected signal. They're good. We can't fend these guys off." Frost hit a red button next to his monitor. Receiving the response, the driver of the van immediately started the van, driving away from the watch sight as quick as feasibly possible without attracting undue attention. Jane nearly fell out of her chair while Dean hit his head on the corner of the monitor. "I'm going to send out a backwards response to their attack. Hopefully, it'll keep them busy."

"Frost…" Jane started.

"We had a hacker trying to shut down our feed. The bugs must have been compromised with a bogus signal feed being piggy-backed by the hacker seeking an easy entrance. They knew what they were doing. Some of our files were taken."

Dean sighed heavily. He covered his eyes in exhaustion. "And the cluster continues to grow… Did they get anything of importance?"

"We'll have to a detailed scan back at headquarters. We had a direct link to the network so it's impossible to say at this point."

"So…Oscar was probably in there with Bone?" Jane asked. "Why don't we tell people to move it and take them into custody?"

"Take them into custody with what? Our suspicions? If we want to get this guy, Jane, we need to act smart, not impulsive."

Jane shook her head dismissively. Dean could do little but return the sentiment.

Things were swiftly getting out of control; there was no other way to spin it. The advantage they had on Bone was gone, leaving them with nothing to work with. In hindsight, he wished they could have seen how little they were accomplishing. Riley and Frankie were doing a fabulous job but each day brought new unknown factors to deal with, factors that couldn't possibly be foreseen. Up till now, Oscar hadn't been on their radar and now she had self-handedly turned their routine into complete disarray.

It hardly helped that Cisco had managed to use his influence to shut down their avenues. They had a ton of intel that amounted to practically nothing. Hours of raw data footage did little to break down the legal barrier that the NSA had put up around the only solid lead they had to pursue. Dean would need more to make an impact with his bosses to lower the red tape and, sadly, his team couldn't get more without making an impact on his superiors to make Oscar's file unrestricted. It was a never-ending cycle of utter frustration.

Bone, Oscar, and, most importantly, Cisco were disappearing into a sea of shadows. They couldn't keep up with these kinds of underhanded tactics. Dean hated to admit it, but they were hopelessly out of their element.

_What have we gotten into? And why are we suddenly two steps behind? Who is this Oscar Grey?_


	33. Chapter 33

-/-/-Chapter 33-/-/-

Darkness. The complete, utter darkness of dreamless sleep blanketed the exhausted detective, wrapping her in a coma-like embrace as her energy slowly recovered from the night of insecurity brought upon by one, single woman's appearance.

As her internal clock called out from a distant light of unwelcome consciousness, alerting the detective that her rest would be cut short, she still was at a loss as to how to reconstruct the shambled mess of her life. When she had come in late, last night, the folded blankets on her old couch upstairs in the game room reminded Jane that her fight with Maura wasn't going to be solved in an hour. Each sleepless night she spent thinking about Cisco, Oscar – or whatever the hell the bitch's name was – and Bone haunted her like an endless nightmare.

Nearly a week of torture had passed of dead sleep and zombiesque existing. For the first time in her life, Jane had begun to understand why some people chose death over living with this sort of pain. Her strong will to make things right made the desire minimal in her case but for others who lacked the strength… Jane made a silent promise to sign up with Cavanaugh in the departmental outreach program for troubled individuals. It wasn't fair for anyone to have to endure this level of distress.

With half-closed eyes, Jane growled at the morning sun hitting her eyes from the open blinds in the game room aka her jail cell. The incessant songs coming from the annoying cardinals marking their territory woke her up first. And then, right on cue, the pain in her back followed suit, coming in at a distant second.

Damn birds, Jane cursed for what felt like the hundredth time. Why can't the weather match my mood? Another day of hell and I have to listen to the birds chatting each other up, making life seem so happy. I hate spring. I hate birds. I hate Cisco and his band of merry thieves. And, most importantly, I hate myself for being so damn stupid.

Her eyes still on sleep mode, the detective struggled to find some kind of comfortable position on her old couch but soon gave up the fight. There was no point. Finding comfort in punishment was like fighting the wind.

Jane hated spending the night on the couch and Maura knew this, always keeping it in her back pocket for the occasional times when she wanted to enforce a particular response toward a behavior she could no longer approve of. She could withstand how uncomfortably lumpy the old couch was but being separated from the warm, loving embrace of her lover and their unborn son nearly made her scream in destructive rage.

Well, at least we're talking…sort of, Jane thought, remembering the lame excuse for a conversation they had while grocery shopping last week. Talk about awkward to the fifth power. Maura had spent the entire time reciting her endless facts and figures on the benefits of taking up an organic, no gluten, no soy, no corn, low meat diet for Bart's health while she had looked like a dog chained to the doghouse with her glum expression as she pushed the cart around dejectedly. No one should have to endure such misery.

It hardly helped her depressed mood seeing her flirting with the deli guy. Jane felt like she could breathe pure fire at the moment, incensed that Maura would take their disagreement to the point where she would tease her with other men. Knowing how vindictive Maura could be when she wanted to be, she probably did it on purpose just to see Jane squirm.

"Why are you doing this?" Jane asked the birds. "Can't you just…talk to me instead of making me sleep on this damn couch and brood? Feeling this way is enough to make me want to vomit."

The birds refused to provide an answer, continuing to chirp their maddening melody in the morning sun, oblivious to her inner turmoil. Jane had spent every waking moment not spent at the safe-house trying to figure out why Maura was so angry. Granted, she hadn't been on top of telling the medical examiner everything going on with the operation but that was hardly her fault. It was a constantly changing mess half the time, even more so with Oscar's appearance. She had told her everything she needed to know. What was so wrong about that?

The unexpected smell of Tempeh bacon along with the rhythmic tapping sound of a wooden spoon against a mixing bowl snatched Jane's attention. Stretching her body out toward the small table, Jane took her watch in her hand to see the time. Nearly nine am…she must have slept in.

Great…just fabulous, Jane thought with a grimace. She had been banking on waking up early, getting some coffee, and heading out for a run to the gym to get in a couple of much needed boxing rounds with the dummy to get some of her pent-up frustration – both mental and sexual – out before dealing with other humans. Because of the baby's impending due date, Maura had taken to more yoga, Pilates, and swimming classes at the Y over her usual jogging regimen so seeing her at the gym was slim to none. The fact that she had to work increased those odds even further in her favor.

But it was all for naught. The couch had foiled her plan by putting her into an uncomfortable sleeping position which had kept her up all night, giving her even more time to think about the clusterfuck of Cisco, Oscar, and Bone along with Maura.

With a sigh, Jane got up from the makeshift bed. She went through the motions of waking up and, in just twenty minutes, began to trudge downstairs. Turning the corner of the foyer, she immediately met her two favorite animals: Bass and Jo. She gave each of them their morning greetings – Jo received exactly three pets on his head while Bass preferred a scratch on the loose folds of scaly skin near the interior of his shell.

"Good morning," Maura whispered.

Jane stood up and had to remember to breathe upon seeing the beautiful figure of her girlfriend before her. Clad in an orange gingham apron covering yet another one of Maura's new maternity dresses, the blonde looked even more radiant as the countdown continued. The increased sunshine of the spring brought even more of a honey hue to her dirty blonde locks. The energy radiating throughout her body added to the overall beauty radiating from the woman in a visible waves.

"What are you doing up?" Jane asked stupidly, her mind gone to mush.

Maura narrowed her eyebrows. "Something you used to be familiar with. Remember BPD? I'm the chief medical examiner. I kinda need to be there in order to do the autopsies since, unlike electrons, I can't be in two places at the same time. Besides, Pike isn't ready to handle the morgue without me on his donkey every minute."

"Ass," Jane corrected. She slung her hair from her eyes and gazed longingly at the bountiful breakfast feast. Several stacks of steaming hot chocolate-chip pancakes, bacon strips, and eggs – Sunny Side up for Maura, scrambled for Jane – sat waiting, teasing the detective to start shoveling the cornucopia of yummy goodness into her mouth. Maura had even prepared two fresh cups of her long-ass-wait-but-marvelously-fantastic espresso.

_It all looks so good…_

"Didn't you find a replacement?"

Maura shrugged, untying the apron from her back. She shook her head sadly. "No one was meeting the standard. One guy I really liked was too young and couldn't deal with Pike's mental games. He told me flat out after the interview that Pike was a 'pretentious, tall, ghost of a man that is too much sketch for anyone to handle on their own without some kind of assistance.'" The medical examiner yawned before grabbing a plate. In her organized way, Maura took three pancakes, two slices of bacon, and three eggs. With the help of a little syrup and several utensils, she combined them into an unusual variant of pigs on a blanket. She smiled goofily at her odd creation.

"You could have interviewed a couple more candidates before your maternity leave."

"There was no point," Maura said. "Finding the first couple of batches was like looking for a piece of hay in a stack of needles." She motioned toward the food with a dismissive wave. "Feel free to have some. God knows I can't eat all of this by myself even with Bart's efforts to get an early start on training for the Youth Olympics."

Jane perked up as the sound of their son's name. She took a plate and began dumping food in a chaotic way, no emphasis on order. Maura took a seat at the dining room table, leaving a spot next to her for the bashful detective. "It can't be that bad."

"Oh it is," Maura replied. "He misses your late night talks."

"How do you know?"

Maura chuckled. "My two years doing residency in pediatrics gives me a little authority on the matter. Children don't do well with unnecessary changes. They thrive on stability and order."

"So…you think this little fight we've been having is unnecessary?" Jane said after taking a seat next to Maura. The espresso's caffeine was giving her a boost in confidence.

With a mysterious, alluring smile, Maura returned to her breakfast. She smiled suddenly with a slight jump. "Bart kicked again. He's been kicking like a soccer player ever since I started cooking. Apparently he likes Tempeh. I'll keep that in mind, little guy."

Jane watched quietly as the woman enjoyed her private moment with the baby. She wanted to jump in but had little desire to interrupt. Yet she did it anyway, hating to be ignored.

"I can't help wanting to protect you, Maura."

"I know," Maura whispered. "But I need you to stop taking one-hundred percent of that responsibility and return fifty percent back to me. We're a family, Jane. I am just as strong as you are. Let me work with you in protecting our family instead of being something to protect."

"But…I can't. I'm the protector. Everything I care about is _my _responsibility, no one else's. That's what I do."

"And that's fine. I'm not asking you to stop doing what you do. I just want you to stop thinking of me like I'm just another possession to protect and start seeing me as an equal partner in our relationship." Maura took a casual sip of her espresso. "Bart's just as much my child as he is yours. Doesn't it make sense that you share threats to his safety with me so I can keep him safe when you _aren't_ around? Because to me, it does."

Jane sighed heavily. She shoveled another pile of eggs into her mouth, unable to talk.

"It's hard to give up control," Jane muttered. She shook her head of loose curls, seeking desperately for a change of topic. "For someone who's such a pacifist, you've got a killer slap on you, Maura."

"I get by when I need to. Mannequin used to have a habit of balking when I asked him to do flying changes in dressage competitions. Sometimes I had to use physical encouragements to help him understand what I wanted."

"So I'm the equivalent to a high-strung horse?"

Maura smirked. "If the shoe fits."

"Fine, I deserve that. But I hate sleeping on that damn couch."

Maura stood up, empty plate and cup in hand. "You're free to come back to our bed at any time."

"So I'm out of exile? For good?"

"It was always meant to be a temporary reprimand, sweetheart," Maura said sweetly. "You hate the couch. I find when you're unhappy and put in a corner by yourself, you think better. Did it work or will we have to extend its duration?"

Jane shook her head aggressively, holding her hands up in defeat. "I'll try working on being a better balancer with you, fifty-fifty share."

Maura nodded. "Good girl. I want you to wash the dishes for me. I hate relying on the dishwasher all the time. The water bill goes up to the bitch's knees."

"Okay…I'm not even going to attempt to touch that mangled expression." Jane watched as Maura grabbed her cell and Birkin. "Why in such hurry?"

"I don't want Pike to burn down the morgue. He nearly killed one of my lab techs with a misbegotten scalpel after I corrected his poor technique a couple of days ago." Maura shook her head in shame. "Poor Joel…he nearly peed his pants. I had to get Suzy to drive him home because of the shock. You know my techs aren't used to dodging fast moving projectiles…or moving fast at all, for that matter. In order to make up for his…abuse, the techies and I are chipping in to buy him free tickets to that "Star Trek" Convention coming to town."

"Just further proof that Pike kills small animals on his spare time."

Maura giggled. She walked over to Jane and gave her a sugary sweet kiss, both women enjoying the unusual taste of maple syrup, chocolate, and pancakes blending into an exotic, heady mix of sensual bliss. "I wish I didn't have to go… It's been too long since we've been together."

"And whose fault is that? Certainly not mine," Jane added wittily.

Maura kicked her girlfriend in the shin. "Don't be a smart-ass. You're ruining our special moment."

"Don't I always?"

"Usually but sometimes Jo and Bass beat you to the punch before you can say something stupid about how I taste like honey on a Boston Special at Tony's Italian Pizzeria."

Jane frowned against Maura's soft lips. "That's a good thing. Tony's Boston Special is like the shit of pizza in Boston. All of that sausage, provolone…and don't get me started on the secret sauce. My ma still can't figure out what is in it and we've been going there for like decades."

"Jane…"

"What? I'm not allowed to share my fun factoids?" Jane made a noise with her mouth. "What a hypocrite…"

For a second time, Jane got kicked in the shin.

"Jesus, was that necessary? I'm sorry, okay? Can you just go to work before you turn my legs black and blue?" Jane smiled.

Maura kissed the brunette once more. "Fine, fine, fine. Love you."

"Love you more," Jane replied. Maura walked to the door before the brunette stopped her in midstride. "And tell Pike to keep his hands off you. His crush on you might still be causing him to drink too many Long Island Ice Teas while he kills those small animals. Don't want him to make a mistake he'll regret."

Maura laughed. "Shut-up. Why don't you tell Dean how much you loved that video of him reading at the feds' poetry jam session? The one he put on his Google profile? You did go through all that trouble of breaking the law and having Frost hack into his account for you."

"Ha-ha, very funny," Jane replied sarcastically. "Just get out of here and go to work. The sooner you go the quicker you can get back to spend the entire day with me."

-/-/-/-/-/-

The morgue underneath BPD's headquarters was quiet, too quiet. The usual crime scene technicians playing with the mass spectrometer and detectives looking to push their case to the top of the medical examiner's list weren't underfoot, leaving the autopsy cave even more eerie than usual.

Maura could do nothing but sigh in contempt, annoyed at the silence. Instead of finishing up the last touches of the autopsy reports, she had to watch Pike attempt to balance the speed necessary to get bodies in and out of the morgue in an efficient manner and skill needed to make the correct assessments for the detectives on the case. For the last couple of weeks, he had been doing a reasonable job, but she was still worried to take her full maternity leave.

"Pike…" Maura began, tapping her watch.

Pike looked over his shoulder with a huff of annoyance. The scalpel in his hands froze in mid-air over the victim of a drive-by shooting. A simple through and through, it would have taken Maura under thirty minutes to get the initial write-up done. Pike, on the other hand, insisted on being meticulous, thorough, and painstakingly slow about the whole process. No matter how hard she tried, he was returning back to his old ways.

"Pike," Maura said exasperatedly. She waddled toward him with a pained expression. "There's no reason to be checking whether the victim had a foot fungus. He got shot in his left ventricle. Last time I checked, the left ventricle is directly connected to the heart, located in the chest cavity."

"I'm being thorough, Dr. Isles. Something you clearly lacked with keeping all of your talkative technicians and whiny detectives underfoot," Pike added in a stage whisper. "If you'd wait just one more minute, I'd be finished already."

Maura rolled her eyes. "Didn't you say that the last time I asked…ten minutes ago?"

"I'm not going to dignify that with a response," Pike frowned. He resumed his work silently before turning his head to the blonde trying desperately to get comfortable. "My intuitivism is underdeveloped, but even I can notice when someone is unhappy. Do you…care to talk about it or is it a private concern involving feminine struggles of pregnancy?"

Maura looked up with a smirk. The last thing she wanted to discuss with Pike, of all people, was her pregnancy pains. She appreciated his concern but Bart's endless kicking was a problem for her doctor, Jane, and Angela.

"Just focus on the autopsy, Dr. Pike." She appraised his report findings with bored eyes. "And that's not an abnormality. It looks similar to an old scar from some sort of altercation. The scar's thickness leads me to believe that the accident diagnosis is off the table."

Pike made a small sound of agreement. He took the report from her and scribbled something down with his fountain pen.

"Congratulations, by the way," Pike said after a brief silence.

Maura tilted her head in confusion. "Thank you?"

"For the baby."

"Oh…well, thank you." The baby kicked in response to being mentioned, bringing a smile to Maura's face. "Bart says thank you, as well."

Pike's mouth twitched slightly in a slight smirk. "My uncle was named Bartolomew. He used the Italian cognate however. Presumably, you chose the English variant."

"You'd presume correctly." Maura smiled, shaking her head at the man's usual need to one up in a conversation. Pike had a lovely knack for making a somewhat pleasant moment unbearably awkward. His competitive streak – fueled by unrequited passion, according to Jane – was always waiting in the wings, looking to pounce.

After much work on his part, Pike finally sewed up the victim on the autopsy table. He went around the body, snapping the bloody gloves off, and took the report back into his file to finish up some last minute details. With a smile, the older man looked up briefly from the small stack of papers. "You look nice in that dress. That blue color brings out your eyes…makes them look, you know, pretty."

Eugh, gag me with a spoon, Maura thought miserably. She didn't know what made her want to die more, the oddly phrased compliment or the fact that Pike had said it.

Thankfully, Suzy came into the morgue. She held a manila folder in her hand as she looked at the two medical examiners with a nervous expression. Maura couldn't blame the young senior criminalist for being apprehensive. Pike had all but banished the familiar techs and detectives from hanging around outside their work environments, all fun essentially wiped out in the nerdy clubhouse that was the morgue.

_Please, have something for me to do. Take me away from this man before I have to lock myself in my office for the rest of the day._

"Dr. Isles, you have a visitor waiting for you in your office. He said he didn't want to disturb you. Apparently it has something to do with the last time he came by and you were dressed like you worked in HAZMAT," Suzy said, motioning at the lighted interior of Maura's eclectically designed office.

Maura followed her hand to see a familiar redheaded man waving back at her with a boyish smirk. Dressed in an expensive linen suit, his deep blue eyes shone in the artificially created light. She stood up and wobbled quickly toward her office to greet the handsome visitor.

"Oh my god…Elias? What are you doing here?" Maura asked joyously, giving her friend a hug. "I thought you had that wedding today? The one with the custom tulip order that you spent all last week bitching about?"

The bouncy red tuft of hair played in his cobalt eyes as he studied Maura's face. "Took a much needed break. I figured: why not let the assistants deal with the bridezilla for an hour. Our friendship comes first." Elias brought a vase of brightly colored flowers in a beautiful arrangement and a large wrapped box from his back. "Two gifts for the lovely lady and her lovely son to come."

Maura gasped. "Elias…."

"Consider it an early gift," Elias beamed. He lowered in a dramatic bow with the two fragile items kept in perfect balance on the palms of his hands. "The flowers are a special set up I'm working on for baby showers. The Lucerne represents life, blending perfectly with the light pink roses that traditionally signify joy. A joy for life is a good message for a baby shower, don't you think? You'd be surprised how many customers come in asking for a baby shower arrangement that I don't have. Can't let all that business fly by on me."

Maura chuckled. Elias would never change. Like a typical man, he enjoyed women, money, and beauty almost as much as he loved living.

"They're lovely," Maura put the sweet smelling flowers on her desk, next to a framed picture of the Japanese charm given to her and Jane from Clementine's parents last year, "but what's in the box? Some lunch from that quaint Turkish café we ate at last time? God, that kalamar with the pilaf was to die for."

"And don't forget about the baklava. I could've killed for more of that sweet goodness."

"I know. We cried like babies when we tasted it."

Elias guffawed. "And remember Jane's face? She looked like we were the mascots of the stupid committee."

They both sat down on the couch, making sure to keep a friendly space between them. With their conflicted history, neither of them had any desire to reopen old wounds by doing anything that could be misconstrued by one of the techies or, worse, Pike. Jane's jealousy was a force to be reckoned with as they both had seen.

"And the box?" Maura asked.

Elias made a waggling motion with his index finger. "Patience is a virtue," he smiled. "But what's this I hear that you aren't planning on having a baby shower?"

Maura was silent, her face revealing her confusion.

"Don't even try to deny it. This is your firstborn, Maura. You've got to have a baby shower."

"If you want one so badly, why don't you get yourself a girlfriend and get started on your own family?"

Maura knew the playful jab would tell Elias to move on with another subject. Having a special someone in his life was a sore spot for the handsome ex-lieutenant colonel. In his own words, he loved sharing his bed with a beautiful woman but could care less for the talking, cuddling, sharing, and caring that had to come with a healthy relationship. Sadly, his inability to do those things didn't leave much room for a young, sweet thing to work with.

I hate seeing him act like such a playboy, Maura thought. Elias deserved much more than that. Maybe Jane knows someone she could hook him up with…

Elias pouted melodramatically. "Such a meanie you are. That wife of yours is turning you into a mini-deviant."

"Don't give me that face," Maura said, giggling at his amusing face. She rubbed her swollen stomach to calm Bart as he began to arouse to his birthmother's happy mood. "It's not that I don't want to have a baby shower. God knows Angela has been getting on me to do something for her first planned grandchild. After the whole mess with Lydia though, Jane and I just don't want to risk it."

"Lydia's pregnancy wasn't a mess, my dear. It was a cluster of the highest proportions. A director couldn't have dreamed up a better scenario for potential drama. There's no way your baby shower can be as bad as that."

Maura shook her head with a smile. "Maybe…but can I open my gift now? If I leave my colleague alone for too long, he gets in all kinds of trouble."

Elias nodded. In excitement, Maura painstakingly opened the wrapping paper, using a letter opener so as not to rip or tear it.

"Aww, Elias…these are so adorable,' Maura cooed. She set the open box down and took out each custom piece out with a beaming smile. The small stack of matching onesies, socks, hats, and bathrobes were designed to look like different animals. "Bart is going to look cute as a little baby lion cub. Where did you get these?"

"I called in a favor with a designer friend of mine. You know Galloway's on Newberry?"

"Yeah, he has a waiting list for years. Even my mother couldn't get me in."

"Well, consider me a miracle worker. He's an old acquaintance from my military school days. I used to paint the town red with him when we were both in our rebel against the establishment stage. Imagine my surprise when I called him up and he agreed to help an old friend out…"

Maura narrowed her eyebrows suspiciously. "I think there is more to this story."

"In exchange, I offered to let him borrow my little black book."

"Eugh, gross," Maura groaned in disgust. "I thought guys didn't keep those things anymore?"

Elias made a disbelieving face. "Who told you that?"

"You did, Pretty Boy," Maura replied, poking him in his strong arms.

Elias blushed before sticking his tongue out playfully. "Well…I lied. Little black books help men – and women, by the way – keep their sexual lives sane and controlled. You know how dangerous it is to enjoy the company of others without keeping records for health and safety reasons?"

"I can't imagine," Maura said, rolling her eyes at his childish behavior.

Suddenly, Pike knocked on the door leading to the morgue, poking his head in with a frown. "Are you planning on returning to work to assist me in finishing these reports?"

Elias leaned in, whispering into the blonde's ear, "I thought you were the chief medical examiner here?"

"I am," Maura replied with a disguised eye roll. Making a sign with her hands, she told Pike that she would be just another moment. "He's just going to be running things while I'm on maternity leave. I brought him in early to get the hang of things."

"Seems like an ass to me."

Maura shook her head. Elias had no idea how close to the truth he actually was.

-/-/-/-/-/-

Back at the Isles-Rizzoli home, Jane was in a rare cleaning frenzy, dusting and wiping every inch of dust off of each piece of furniture in the house like her life depended on it. She had tackled most of the upstairs with the Roomba's help – Jo, like most four-legged creatures, found the device to be like a demi-god, following it obsessively with Bass in tow – but the expensive knickknacks in the living room and the guest house required a much finer touch. She had to do most of that cleaning without Mr. Roomba's help.

Wearing a pair of old, nattered overalls with a skimpy tank-top, Jane lifted a dirty dusting rag to her sweaty face, leaving a black trail of dust on her forehead. The oppressing summer heat pushed heavily against her eyes. As the hot breeze came in from the open windows, it whispered seductively that sleep was far more entertaining than worrying about so many things outside of her control.

Jane knew it was a waste of precious energy but she couldn't help it. Oscar was becoming an obsession in her mind, eliminating all else. Frankie and Riley were still working undercover despite Dean's reservations on keeping them in the field with all of the unknown variables Oscar brought to the table.

Jane understood his concerns but they had nothing else to work with. They had to exploit what little they had for more information on Bone's drug contacts in Boston. BPD's Drug Unit had discovered that drugs with Cisco's brand had begun to trickle into the market. Nothing hardcore had shown up yet, but if they didn't get something soon, it would only be a matter of time until methamphetamine, ecstasy, and cocaine – to name a few – would be in demand.

Surprisingly, after nearly having their hacking equipment hacked by Bone's team, their bugs were still working well. The difficulties posed with the jammers had been alarming but easily managed by the main team working in the safe-house. Most of the files that had been stolen had been changed for increased protection. Each day told them a little bit more about Cisco's operation yet still they lacked the final nail in the hammer to authorize a move on Bone, Cisco, and the new force coming into play, Oscar.

If this cat and mouse game continued for any longer, Jane didn't know what they were going to do. Maura was going to have the baby in just a couple more months. They were scheduled to have one of their last appointments with Dr. Rose in a couple more days to finalize last minute issues and plans.

With the amount of stress that was already going to be on her plate with the baby's arrival, the last thing Jane wanted to do was add even more by not dealing with the risk of Oscar showing up unannounced again. No matter how much Dean tried to assure her that the odds were slim, she didn't want to risk it, not now, so close to Bart's due date.

Something has to break, Jane thought ruefully. The last thing she wanted to do was make a premature move and lose any element of surprise they still had left but waiting on her ass for the "perfect moment" wasn't an option either.

Suddenly, breaking through her thoughts, the sound of the front door creaking open put Jane on high alert. In a fraction of a second, the detective grabbed her gun off the counter, spun around on the sock covered balls of her feet, and flashed her firearm in an offensive stance toward the intruder.

"Is this how you greet all of your friends?" Dean asked, his voice surprisingly calm for someone being aimed at with a Glock. "Explains so much."

Jane frowned. She threw the dirty rag in his general direction, enjoying the satisfying fwap sound that echoed throughout the foyer. "Don't you know how to knock, Agent? I know the FBI is exempt from most rules, but usually if a door is locked, it doesn't give you the excuse to pick it to gain access to others' homes."

"The door was open." Dean walked over to lean against the windowsill. He took one look at the brunette's attire and swiped his finger across the freshly dusted frame. "Hmm…you could do a lot better with this dusting job, Jane. My nephew can do better than this."

"Do you have something you'd like to say or are you just wasting my time?" Jane said sarcastically.

But the agent's unusually askew appearance and reddened eyes from lost sleep warranted her attention.

"You alright?" Jane asked, setting the gun back down on the table. She made a practiced motion with her hands to ensure the safety was back in place. "You look like you've been to hell and back. Have you been having problems with sleeping?"

Dean laughed. "Hardly. I had to take the red-eye into Washington for a meeting with the boss. They called me an hour before the flight was scheduled to leave, telling me they had a seat booked and everything."

Jane frowned, immediately expecting the worse. "The big boss or the head honcho?"

"Head honcho," Dean replied tiredly. "The director wanted to know why he had to have a chat with the NSA director on why one of his agents was poking around in restricted files."

"Oscar…"

"Exactly," Dean pushed his hand through his hair. "I knew it was only a matter of time until the information made its way up the chain, but I was hoping we'd have more to show for it before it got to that point. As you can expect, he told me to back off of Silvia until I get 'sufficient proof that she is a crucial link in the investigation into Cisco.' And before you ask, I can assure you I tried telling him about our current situation and he told me to shove it over the priority of 'retaining interdepartmental bridges between the NSA and FBI for future high-priority cases.'" He sighed heavily, all of his energy coming out in a single puff. "You know what this means, right?"

"We're stuck in limbo."

"We can wait until we get more intel…"

"But waiting puts Frankie, Riley, everyone involved in more risk."

A silence weighed heavily upon the two as they sat alone with their individual thoughts.

"I want to move on this. As soon as possible," Jane commanded.

Dean looked up with tired eyes. "We can find another route to getting something more conclusive."

"And I don't want to wait any longer," Jane said, near screaming. "Frankie and Riley have been working this UC for nearly a year. That's beyond the range for most _experienced_ agents."

"And you don't think they can handle it? Listen, Jane, I told you when we started that this would be a long-term operation-"

Jane silenced him with a single glare of her fiery brown eyes. "And I know you don't know the first thing about working undercover, Dean. Being a UC requires a level of stamina that few cops can withstand for long periods. Why do you think most detectives leave the Drug Unit after doing a three year stint?"

"Because it sucks being around all that blow all the time?" Dean chuckled slightly.

Jane reached up and slapped the taller man on the head. "No, asshole. Each day it gets harder to remember who you used to be, before going undercover. You can get…lost in the game of being someone else, keeping a character as realistic as possible."

"So you want to move on this despite not having definitive evidence?" Dean asked rhetorically, already knowing the answer.

Jane started to nod before her phone began to ring. She snatched the phone up before it could even ring more than two times.

"Rizzoli."

"Jane," Maura's familiar voice said sweetly. "Do you think you can come by and pick me up? I'm not feeling so well."

"What's wrong?"

Maura laughed. "Ohh nothing serious, sweetheart. I just forgot to eat something with all of this running around after Pike. I swear…that man will be the death of my sanity."

Jane shook her head. "Again? I swear _you _are going to be the death of _my _sanity. I put some extra graham crackers covered in chocolate for you in your purse."

"Wouldn't that get kind of messy?"

"Obviously I put it in a bag," Jane replied, rolling her eyes at the blonde's oblivious comment. "It should keep you tied over until I get there."

"That's so sweet of you," Maura said lovingly, "but how are you going to get here? I've got the Aston today. I could always call Frost to come by the parking garage and drive it back to the house. God knows he would jump at the opportunity to drive it again after nearly peeing his pants the last time, but I hate putting him on the spot, especially with this operation taking all of his time. It's unbelievably rude."

"It's alright, honey. Dean's here." Jane looked over at the moody agent checking his expensive watch for the time. "He'll give me a ride. And don't you worry, he doesn't mind. You wanna get something from my ma at the café when I get there?"

Maura gasped. "No way, Jose. Your mother's been trying to get me to start planning a proper Rizzoli baby shower for the longest. She won't leave me alone. Avoiding her for as long as possible is my best bet to keep from having to discuss it. And, you know what? I think she's been talking to Elias. He came over talking about baby showers when he dropped off some baby clothes for Bart from – you'll never guess where."

Jane didn't even hesitate. "Galloway's on Newberry Street?"

"Yeah…how did you guess? Can you read my mind?"

Jane chuckled. "I asked him to get them for you. When he told me that he knew the designer, I told him what you would like and he did the rest. Are you mad? I know I should have told you about it beforehand, but I wanted it to be a surprise."

"Jane…you always manage to surprise me," Maura said shakily, next to tears.

"I'm gonna take that as a compliment," Jane said. "Well…if you don't want to see my ma, you and I can go and get some lunch at that macaroni grill, the one you've been moaning about. We'll make a date outta it."

Maura could barely keep the excitement from her voice. "I'd love that."

"And then we can head home and spend the rest of the afternoon with dessert." Jane chuckled at the memory that came out from the fog of her mind. "Remember the last time we painted each other in chocolate and you showed me how to do that thing with the sprinkles on your clit-"

Dean coughed loudly, interrupting the brunette from her romantic interlude.

"Yeah…umm, I'll call you when I get there, alright?" Jane said, blushing beet red.


	34. Chapter 34

-/-/-Chapter 34-/-/-

"So how are you two doing today?"

Dr. Rose walked around the examination table where Maura lay prone in a brightly colored medical robe while Jane stood nearby, her hand tracing an intricate pattern on her reddened shoulder.

Despite Dean's complaints, they had spent the weekend at Cape Cod to reconnect with each other and enjoy their final weeks of alone time. Deciding to forego horseback riding on the beach after their last shared experience with horses, Maura decided to pass the time at various museums with Jane in tow. From Constance's beach house to the museums and back again, both were completely sunburnt after the fun summer getaway.

Maura beamed blissfully. "We picked a name."

Dr. Rose's face mirrored the blonde's excitement, looking between them with a maternal energy. "Do tell."

"Bartholomew Constantine Isles-Rizzoli," Maura said proudly.

"Bart for short even though Maura's taken to calling him Thom when I'm not looking," Jane smiled. She just managed to avoid her girlfriend's fast moving elbow striking out in search of her vulnerable scar tissue. "Maura…c'mon, you nearly hit me that time."

Maura rolled her eyes. "So what do you think? Is it a good name?"

"There's no such thing. A name is nothing more than the individual representation of the love felt toward a new bundle of life by the primary caregivers. Good or bad doesn't really apply where love is concerned, in my honest opinion." Dr. Rose tapped Maura on her knee and she lifted her body up from the table, closing her legs in a subtle sign of modesty. "But I will say that Bartholomew is very handsome. I knew a Bartholomew once. He was a beautiful young man, an Abercrombie & Fitch model before the term even existed. I met him when I was in med school…"

Jane stared blankly at the doctor while Maura seemed completely enthralled at the potential overshare.

"Well…anyway, back on topic," Dr. Rose giggled, hardly noticing the awkward pause. "I have some good news, great news, and some not so good news regarding little Bart."

Jane grasped Maura's hand instinctually. "Bad news first," she said, asserting her authority. Maura coughed slightly, giving her lover a disapproving look, and Jane immediately corrected herself, "I mean…Maura would you like to have the bad news first or what?"

With a sigh, Maura rolled her eyes. "Well…I'd give you an for A for effort." She looked over at Dr. Rose with a smile. "Jane's working on giving up some of her controlling tendencies. Emphasis on working on it."

"Good for you, Detective. Self-improvement is beneficial for both baby and mommy."

"So…what's the bad news?" Maura asked shakily.

"The baby is in a bit of an awkward position but it should work itself out by the time of the due date."

Jane frowned. "What will happen if he doesn't go into a normal position?"

"We'll have to do a Cesarean section. It's hardly a serious operation but I like to warn mothers beforehand concerning the risks. Far too many people think it's as simple as cutting into a cherry pie because of lazy celebrity mothers who want an easy fix." Dr. Rose smiled assuredly. "Honestly, I doubt that we will have to go that route. Babies in the third trimester move around all the time. When it comes time to start pushing though, most settle right on down in the right position."

Maura nodded, understanding the risks. "And the good news?"

"You only have a couple more months to go until the due date. I'm sure you must be thrilled to finally lose all of that extra body weight you've been carrying around," Dr. Rose replied. "Little boys have a tendency to be a little heavier than girls in the weight department."

"And the great news?" Maura asked, barely able to hold back her excitement. She gripped onto Jane's hand with ever increasing pressure.

"Bart looks a healthy, well-developed baby boy, right on schedule for his age range. His due date should be around," Dr. Rose checked her calendar on her tablet computer, "late July or early August, if he decides to go full term. Do you plan on inducing?"

Jane shook her head. "No, Maura wants to carry full-term for the health benefits or some medical mumbo-jumbo quackery."

"There wouldn't be any health risks to the baby. He's around three pounds now."

Maura shook her head and proceeded to quote all kinds of medical facts about the effect of inducing on children's intelligence quotient potential. Jane mostly ignored the blonde, choosing to take a peppermint from Maura's bag, popping it in her mouth.

"Have you two started doing some of the maternal bonding exercises that I suggested?" Dr. Rose asked. She looked away as Jane helped Maura redress. "It might sound silly but you'd be surprised what babies retain upon birth. The connections established in the womb are quite important to creating a primary caregiver dynamic with a young newborn."

Maura chuckled as she shrugged on her blouse. "Oh we have been doing plenty of that. Jane has taken to cooing at him all the time. Bart enjoys her voice more than I do, which is pretty impressive."

Jane made a childish face in response. Dr. Rose could do nothing but laugh at the two women's interactions with each other.

"And I know you enjoy reading and listening to music with him. How's that going?"

"Bart seems to be privy to jazz and classical music. When I read 'The Little Prince' to him in French last night, Ludovico Einaudi was playing. He just settled down like he was actually listening to the music and my voice."

"Maura thinks the child is going to be musically inclined. I keep telling her that he's gonna start playing sports," Jane said, earning her a slap on the shoulder.

"Jane…"

"Maura," Jane said, mimicking Maura perfectly. "Bart is a Rizzoli. He's gonna need a lot more than Mozart, Chopin, and pirouettes to keep him happy."

Maura pouted. "How do you know?"

"Cause he's a _Rizzoli_. It's in our blood to be adrenaline fueled, athletic beasts…well, excluding Tommy. He didn't play any sports really unless you count breaking and entering into St. Benedicts on his spare time and stealing the donations an athletic skill…"

"He did not!" Maura exclaimed passionately. "Tommy wouldn't break into a church."

"Oh yes he did, I was there playing get-away driver."

"I thought you were against crime?"

Jane shrugged. "I was, I am, but I couldn't just leave my brother in the hell hole. At the time, I just thought he was doing it to get his jollies off but then it became a bigger problem and…I couldn't watch out for him any longer."

Dr. Rose coughed slightly, interrupting the two women. "And how is everything going with the two of you? Any couple issues like earlier in the pregnancy?"

Jane laughed at the look Maura gave her, a silent reference to their fight several weeks ago. "We've got things all figured out, Doc. Bart's gonna be with the happiest family ever."

"He's going to love us so much that he's going to want to be sick," Maura said in her usual optimistic way.

Jane gave Maura a disbelieving look. "Really?"

"What?" Maura asked. "What did I say? I just wanted to use one of those expression thingies you use so much."

"When have you ever heard me say that someone is going to 'love something so much they're going to be sick'? That's distressing."

Maura frowned. "No, it's not!"

"Yes, it is!"

As the two women went back and forth, Dr. Rose laughed. They were as ready as they would ever be, she thought.

-***-***- End of Part 3 -***-***-


	35. Chapter 35

-/-/-Chapter 35-/-/-

In their usual seating arrangement at Independent Sweets, Jane and Frost sat with Riley and Frankie, discussing the events of the last couple of weeks. Everyone looked exhausted with the long operation, wishing quietly for the endless affair to be over. It had been nearly nine months since they had started the joint investigation into the Cisco Kid's international drug smuggling operation. Things were finally starting to wrap up and Jane couldn't be any happier.

"Please tell me we're finished with this whole charade," Frankie said breathlessly, running his hand through his longer than usual hair, a nervous habit he had picked up from his sister. "I'm starting to miss not having to fight for hot water every night."

Riley sighed tiredly. "More importantly, I'm pretty sure Bone has made us."

Jane's eyes narrowed in concern. "You need to be pulled?"

"No, no," Riley commanded. She was clearly determined to stay in the field. "We're not in any real risk and I don't have anything to back my feelings up. I just…feel this distance between Bone and I developing. He's never done this before. Ever since-"

"Oscar," Jane completed her fellow detective's thought.

Oscar had entered the picture a couple of months ago, meeting Bone at his high-rise where Frankie and Riley had been working undercover. She had promptly begun to screw everything up, one by one. All of their carefully structured plans for dealing with their original mark had fallen to pieces, leaving them with little to work with in achieving their primary goal of taking down Cisco and his wide net of drug smuggling and producing spanning the entire globe.

_We might have managed to close things up already if Oscar hadn't shown up._

Complaining about the state of affairs wasn't going to make things any better. They had to make do with what they had…which wasn't much.

"There is some good news," Frost said. "We've got enough intel from the bugs to make a big move on Bone, the one we've been waiting for."

"What's going on?" Frankie asked, unable to hold back his excitement.

Jane smiled. "We're raiding the place."

Everyone went silent as they processed the weight of Jane's statement. Finally, this was what they had been waiting for. All of the hours spent waiting, hoping, and, at times, praying for something, anything was finally paying off.

"But don't get too excited, guys," Jane warned. "We want to get as many fishes in the fryer with this. If we get Bone and a couple of shipments of illegal crack cocaine in one of his warehouses on the dock, that still leaves us with nothing. Cisco is the main goal."

"So we trap them all at once," Frankie replied.

Jane chuckled. "Easier said than done. Oscar refuses to show her face after that one incident in Bone's pool. There's been no intel of her leaving or entering the apartment or any of the hotspots he frequents." She took out a small map of a top-down view of the shipping warehouses near the Charles River. "We do have an email from Bone to one of Cisco's distributors. Apparently, he wants to wrap Boston up as a win for Cisco in his drug empire. We're planning to use this meet that he's planning as a cover to take Bone and the distributor into custody."

"And what if we get just one?"

Frost scrunched his eyebrows in intense thought. "Then we're screwed. Bone won't talk without some kind of pressure on him and, given our lack of conclusive evidence, we'll have to let him go." He sighed heavily with just a trace of exasperation. "The feds and I have tried to work out some other alternative but there just isn't a lot to work with."

"But what about Oscar?" Riley asked quietly. Despite her best efforts to maintain some pretense of calm, the young female detective couldn't stop her hand from clenching against the fine porcelain of the half-empty tea cup. "Catching Oscar would take care of all of our problems."

Jane shook her head. "You're not getting it, Detective. As much as I would love to take down the bitch myself," her voice cracked at the mere mention of the name that had caused her so much grief, "Oscar is a complete unknown. Going after her now would be beyond stupid. The NSA, and god knows who else, are in her pocket, keeping her in the shadows. At least with Bone we have some genuine intel on him that can be fact-checked on our end without running into governmental red tape."

"But…"

"No, Riley, end of discussion," Jane commanded. She turned her no nonsense gaze on the young woman sitting across from her. Riley could do little but cower under the power emanating from the older, wiser detective. "I don't want to waste this golden opportunity because you want to get greedy and cash in on speculation. Getting Cisco is our priority and Bone is still the best avenue to achieve our goal. Don't forget that."

Riley frowned, clearly unhappy with that response. The older detective was wise beyond her years given all of the experience she had gained in the field. But something told her…something told her that they were going about this all wrong. She couldn't describe her feelings but knew that there was something inherently wrong about looking at Bone, Oscar, and Cisco as separate entities, independent from each other.

_What is it? Why did things feel so hinky?_

"This raid will be a joint operation with the feds, DEA, and some of our old friends in BPD's Drug Unit. Bringing in the DEA is the last thing I want to do but we'll figure that out when we get to it," Jane explained. "They'll be two branches of this operation that we'll explain to you all later in more detail. In short, one team will raid Bone's meet with the drug distributor that I explained earlier. Another team will be running in sync with a separate group to raid Bone's apartment at the same time."

Frankie leaned forward in interest. Unlike the other detectives at the table, he had never gone through real covert work like this. He had always jumped at the opportunity to help out Jane and the rest of the homicide detectives when he could under the guise of earning enough juice to get a chance to show what he could really do but now…now he was starting to understand how much work, time, and skill went into being a good detective.

So that's why she got the spot over me, Frankie realized for the first time since losing the homicide position nearly a year ago.

A pretty woman with a Brazilian accent came by their table, her youthful exuberance impossible to ignore. Everyone turned to greet her as she came bopping along on the balls of her feet like deer flitting on the forest floor. "Hi there," she said, smiling. "Just wanted to make sure you're doing okay. Do you need some more tea or coffee or would you like to get the check?"

"I could do with another coffee," Jane replied, returning the smile.

"Same two sugars, black?"

"You know me far too well."

The young woman flitted back off into the wilderness of Independent Sweet's coffee bar to put her order in, leaving the team alone.

"Riley, Frankie, and our usual team will be working in the raid of Bone's apartment. Since we've got experience working with BPD, they'll be heading up support. The raid on the warehouse will be a joint DEA and FBI venture." Seeing Frankie about to open his mouth in complaint, Jane silenced him with an outstretched palm. "And before you complain, baby brother, I didn't have any control over that arrangement. You got a problem? Take it up with Dean. I'm sure he'd be glad to hear your issues involving his leadership skills," she said sarcastically.

Frankie blushed. "Well…actually, I just wanted to know if we're going to get cool codenames."

Everyone turned to Frankie with a blank stare.

"Codenames?" Jane repeated with just a hint of amusement in her voice. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean."

"Well…you know…codenames for the operational assignments. Like Operation Bulldog or Flame Retardant."

Frost blinked once, twice, three times before finally managing to gather his thoughts in a coherent sentence. "Operation Flame Retardant? Bro, no one has ever heard of an operation with a codename like Flame Retardant." He threw a balled up packet of sugar at the youngest Rizzoli. "And you wonder why you're a single, thirty-something cop who's perpetually stuck playing back-up to your big sister."

"It's a legitimate question, Frost," Frankie replied earnestly, narrowing his eyes at his friend. "You would know that if you didn't spend so much time barfing at crimes scenes to ask a question or two every once and awhile."

"I told you I'm getting help for that," Frost argued back.

"Oh yeah, spending quality alone time with my sister's wife talking about your," his voice rose to an exaggerated facsimile impression of a prissy guy, "'feelings' and how hard it must be to restrain from barfing at the sign of guts on the floor of an expensive high-rise."

"Now wait just a minute," Jane interjected with a playful smile, finding it impossible to resist poking fun with her friends and family. "What's this about Maura giving you private time? I didn't know you were seeing my wife in a nonprofessional capacity. Do I need to leave the sprinkler on a night to deter these secret rendezvous?"

Frost rolled his eyes. "It's not even like that. She's just been helping me develop therapy techniques to conquer my fear of…dead bodies. Some of them actually make sense, by the way."

Before Jane could respond with a witty retort, the sound of her phone vibrating against the table top echoed across the room. The waitress brought back the coffee with her same usual smile; but, this time, the detective was far too preoccupied with something far more important to give the girl a flirtatious response.

"Rizzoli."

"Jane Clementine Rizzoli! Where are you?"

Cringing at the use of her middle name in the tone only mothers could wield with such power, Jane sighed heavily. "Ma…c'mon."

"Don't c'mon me, Jane. Maura, your wife who is nearly a week away from her due date, is waiting on you to come home and start this baby shower. How can you have a baby shower without the wife present?"

Jane frowned. "Well, no offense, but we're both technically considered the wife even from a common-law standpoint."

"Labels shouldn't be defined by the gender one decides to take."

"And what the hell does that mean?"

"Constance told me about when we went baby shopping."

Jane coughed in an effort to release the sudden tension closing her throat. "What the hell are you doing hanging out with Constance? How long has this been going on?"

"Jane, language…"

"Ma, I'm nearly forty. I don't think the big guy in the sky or his saintly patrons give a flying cannoli whether I curse like a sailor."

"What would Father Crowley say…," Angela sighed before the sound of crashing utensils clanged into the phone's speakers. "Maura? Are you alright? No…let me get that." She muttered under her breath. "Just get here, Jane. Your priorities are at home, not trying to save the world."

Jane growled in frustration. "I've got like thirty minutes. And I told you that I might be a little late because of work. What do you want me to do? Tell Frankie and Riley to hold up everything because my mom is forcing me to entertain the crazy Rizzoli clan by telling them how much I love those pumpkin colored booties for the baby?"

"What you need to do is get a better attitude. You know your Aunt Maria had to catch a nine hour flight from Italy to get here for this baby shower. It means a lot to everyone for you to be here supporting your wife and unborn son."

Jane rolled her eyes. "I just don't see the point of doing all of this work for a baby. You guys are making it seem like it's the second coming of Jesus."

"My only daughter is finally taking time out of her busy schedule of being Boston's very own Wonder Woman to start a family. Another generation of Rizzoli blood will be put on this earth. So, yes, I do think it's a big deal to be cherished. Make sure to get here before the party finishes," Angela said, the finality in her tone leaving little room for continued debate.

After hanging up the phone, Riley whistled. "Wow, so it's time already?"

"Yep," Jane replied. A blush of pride colored her cheeks. "She's gonna be nine months exactly come next week. She's adamant on the baby coming sooner rather than later. I can't blame her though. The woman is literally as big as a small cow; she nearly ran me into the wall last night when I was brushing my teeth."

Frankie laughed. "Isn't it a little late to be doing a baby shower though?"

Jane shrugged. "We weren't going to have one until Maura told Constance and then Constance told my ma. Apparently they're sharing recipes now."

"Jane…"

"I know, I know," Jane repeated as if she had heard it all before. "Trust me, I got the lecture from Maura. But, in order to show her that I'm making an effort, this meeting is gonna let out a little earlier than expected."

Frost stood up from the booth to let Jane out. "And guess who gets to drive her there?"

"The baby daddy?" Frankie muttered under his breath.

"Three words you'll never be able to say," Frost bantered back.

Jane rolled her eyes and gave the team some last minute instructions before they began to disperse from the table. Jane and Riley, the last two to leave were left footing the bill – much to Jane's chagrin – but there was a reason why she had decided to wait up for the detective.

"Hey, Riley," Jane said. She placed her hand on the young woman's shoulder, immediately provoking an expression of utter confusion on her face. "We need to chat."

"If this is about Frankie, I can assure you he doesn't act that stupid in the field. He's just glad things are starting to wrap up and he can go back home to his normal life."

"And that's what I need to talk to you about." Jane ushered them into the woman's restroom, locking the door behind her. A couple of girls – in a pack, as usual – behind them released a yell of frustration, but she ignored their complaints. This would only take a second.

Riley rubbed her arm in mock pain. "What's with the cloak and dagger routine?"

Jane took a small piece of cardstock out of her pocket. "I wanted to give you this… If you need it."

The young woman looked down at the card as if it was a trick. "You…you think I need to see a shrink?"

"Listen, I'm not saying you're crazy so get the deer-in-the-headlights look off your face." Jane sighed, struggling with the right words to say in a delicate situation such as this. "This was a long operation, Riley. Things happen during these kinds of undercover assignments that…you might end up regretting or feeling anxiety about in the future."

"I've been undercover before, Detective."

"And so have I. No one is gonna look down on you because you went to talk things out with someone who's not gonna to judge you about…the things you had to do."

Riley raised her eyebrow. "You mean having sex with Bone?"

"Whatever you did. The point is…damn, what is the point?" Jane took a shaky breath, trying to collect her thoughts for a second time. She decided to ignore the subtleties. "Listen, kid, I know what the Drug Unit culture is all about. I learned how to be a detective, to take care of myself in there. But…detectives learn to keep things bottled up especially female cops if they want to be treated with respect. Men kept their feelings under wrap and so did we. It was the way things were, expected to be. God, if I had decided to go to a shrink during my years working undercover… I was always scared that I would have been seen even more like a whiny kid that wasn't ready for the big time."

Riley was in no mood to listen to Jane's perceptive knowledge of the internal culture she had to learn to deal with during her own time in the Drug Unit. "Is there a point to this story? I really got to get some last minute things figured out with Frankie."

As Riley began to inch past the older detective, Jane extended a quick hand to hold her back. She glared at Jane in frustration but didn't resist the barrier placed between her and the exit.

"Going undercover for this long with one, exclusive mark can be difficult even for the most seasoned detectives, Riley. When my old partner from the drug unit let me run lead on buy-busts, I had to do things that stuck with me for years. The biggest mistake I've ever made was when I chose to ignore my pain, figuring it would go away like a bad cold. I guess I thought they were just a part of the job. Everybody kept telling me to take a couple of days off, drink whiskey, and forget about it but I couldn't do that, no matter how hard I tried." Jane shrugged with a slight chuckle, completely lost in the retelling of memories last drudged up during one of her late-night kiss and tell moments with Maura many years ago. "I'm still not completely comfortable talking about some of the things I did, was forced to do."

"Then why are you giving me this? Expecting me to talk to a shrink when you can't seems pretty damn hypocritical, Jane," Riley growled, her anger a surprise to both of them.

Jane reacted in kind, her temper burning against her will. The sounds of knocking continued to rise in crescendo from the growing crowd of women waiting to use the facilities. "You're not hearing me. I'm not forcing you to do jack. Don't go, do go. Whatever you decide. I'm just offering you something that I never had anyone do for me. I had to make my own path, complete with mistakes and pain along the way. If I didn't have Maura in my life…god knows what I would have done. But you don't have a Maura to catch you when things get bad. So," she pointed at the card clutched in Riley's hand, "this is a substitute."

As soon as the words came from her mouth, Jane knew she had made a mistake. Riley wanted nothing more but to be like her. To her, she was the ideal, the heroine of the Homicide Unit. Admitting failure was one thing, but associating Riley with a substitute sounded dangerously close to saying the young detective was inferior in some way, like she couldn't handle things like Jane did and needed an "easier" route to success. That was the last thing she had meant to say.

"Wait, Riley," Jane said. "I didn't mean to say-"

"Go to hell," Riley replied tonelessly, completely devoid of emotion. She walked out of the restroom, leaving the brunette feeling absolutely ridiculous.

I'm such a grade-A idiot, Jane thought ruefully. The last thing she had intended was to piss the young detective off, especially in the middle of the last leg of the operation. Things were critically coming together. Riley needed to be at her best in order to keep Frankie focused. After everything they had worked for in the last nine months could be at risk just because she had slipped her tongue in saying the inappropriate.

-/-/-/-/-/-

"Oh wow…another baby sling. It's beautiful, really. Thank you, Theresa."

Jane watched from her seat of honor next to Maura in the middle of the living room. Their family and friends sat around the couple, each giddy sound of excitement coming from the women echoing through the townhouse. An assortment of colorful wrapping paper decorated with baby ducks and various shades of blue littered the space between Maura and the eagerly awaiting mass of family members from the Isles and Rizzoli clans.

Besides the initial awkwardness between the two groups, everyone had managed to find common ground to ease the inevitable tensions of melding two families together. Constance came as the lone representative of the Isles' clan – her father had sent his regards from Berlin – but the sophisticated woman had found no problems carving her place in the endless horde of Jane's dark-haired, passionate family.

For her family, the birth of a new generation was a celebration. And no Rizzoli could bear to turn down an opportunity to break out the Chianti and cannoli for a new member of the family…especially if it was free. Jane had been worried about how they would take her relationship with Maura but everyone happily welcomed Maura into the family with open arms and a toast to their future wellbeing. Everything had turned out perfectly.

Jane yawned, looking at her watch in restrained boredom. It had been nearly three hours since the baby shower had begun, and she wanted to call it a day. After rushing here from the meeting with Frankie and Riley, she had to make the difficult switch over from one mental track to another. Going from her work responsibilities with Dean, Frankie, and Riley to the needs of the baby and her wife was getting harder and harder to do without splitting in two. Jane knew that adding her Italian family to the mix, complete with the drama that always came with them, was just one more thing to push her mental facilities beyond their limit.

All I want to do is spend some time alone with Maura and Bart, Jane thought exasperatedly. Is that really too much to ask?

"Jane…" Maura whispered, extending her hand over her enlarged stomach. "You alright?"

"Just tired," Jane replied. She glanced back at the assortment of familiar faces with a false smile. "Anything else you want to put us through for this ridiculous charade, Ma?"

Angela frowned. "A baby shower is not a charade."

"Pretending to be amused by all of this traditional nonsense defines charade."

"Jane Clementine Rizzoli!"

Jane shrugged. "What?"

But before they could continue their bickering, Lydia, in typical fashion, blurted out, "We can't forget about baby games. I've always wanted to play Pin-The-Tail-On-The-New-Mommy."

With a raised eyebrow, Jane gave the ditzy blonde a disbelieving look. It had been awhile since the Tommy Affair that had resulted in the birth of little TJ. She still couldn't believe how much things had settled with Lydia in the last couple of months. In many ways, the young woman was just another – albeit a tad less intelligent – member of the Rizzoli extended family.

Maura smiled warmly. She had always found the young woman sweet. "That sounds fun." She stumbled from the comfortable couch to stand up from the position of honor around the female family members. "But first, I'm going to go to the bathroom to freshen up. Bart's apparently found a new hobby of kicking my bladder every minute. Feel free to enjoy our home as if it is your own while I'm gone," she said politely, always remembering the importance of being a good hostess from her etiquette classes as a child.

Maura ambled off with a broken gait, leaving Jane alone with her relatives and Constance. Fuck that, she thought, standing up from the couch to follow behind her wife. Watching Maura pee has to be better than giving my Aunt Theresa the glare to end all glares. The wafting aroma of the blonde's fresh lavender shampoo took her upstairs, toward the half-closed door of Bart's nursery, an orange light from the lamp streaming into the darkened hallway.

Jane knocked on the door quietly. "I've never known you to hide away from company."

Maura turned from her seat on the balcony facing the large window next to Bart's crib. She hardly looked surprised to see her lover standing in the doorway. Their eyes met, communicating to each other in complete silence. The only sound echoing through the room was the joyous conversation of Angela entertaining Constance with various tales of her childhood.

"I'm hardly hiding," Maura smiled. "I just need some space for a minute." She lowered her hand to caress her ripe belly. "Bart's getting so excited hearing all of these new voices and sounds."

Jane took a seat next to Maura. "You tired?"

"A little…well, actually, a lot." Maura replied, covering her hazel eyes in exhaustion. "I could barely keep my eyes open during the lunch."

"I'll tell them to leave," Jane said commandingly, standing up to deal with the problem.

"No, no…don't do that. They're having so much fun celebrating the baby."

"Maura…you can't put their amusement over your well-being. Dr. Rose said you could give birth at any time. You don't need to be dealing with stress right now."

"And you know how much I can't stand it when you try to tell me what to do."

Jane shook her head. "Of course. I don't know how I could have forgotten," she bantered back, sarcasm dripping from each syllable.

A brief silence came over the couple as they enjoyed the echoing conversation from below and the blissful relaxation in their isolated bubble above. After several loving moments, Maura's face flashed briefly with discontent. Jane quickly noticed her change in mood and wrapped her arm around the blonde.

"What's wrong?" Jane asked. "Bart still putting up a fight?"

Maura shook her head. "No…it's something else."

"So…you gonna fill me in?"

Maura blushed. She turned her head away in a mock attempt to hide her reddened face. "It's embarrassing."

"Everything you say is embarrassing in some way or another," Jane joked. "And you know I'm not gonna laugh at you. I love you too much to do that. C'mon, spill the beans."

Maura sighed. "I'm so exhausted all of the time. Sometimes I literally feel like Bart is going to murder me before the labor starts. And…it makes me want this all to be over."

"It's okay to be tired, honey. Nine months of pregnancy can do that."

"You don't get it," Maura said exasperatedly.

"Then help me get it," Jane replied. She shifted her body to bring Maura's focus completely on her. Their eyes flashed with exhilaration as they reconnected, all of the white noise from downstairs ceasing to exist.

Maura couldn't restrain the slight frown that came to her lips. "Wanting this pregnancy to be over so much just sounds so…selfish. I love Bart with all of my heart. He's our little man, our son. But I'm so exhausted. Is it alright to feel that way?"

"You have every right to be selfish concerning your health." Jane chuckled. She lowered her hand to caress Maura's stomach. The slight twitch in response nearly brought tears to her eyes knowing that their child was responding to her touch. "Bart will understand. He's just making some last minute adjustments. You know Dr. Rose always gave us the option to induce if it's too much-"

"No! Absolutely not, Jane!" Maura interrupted. "Inducing is medically unsound for the mental and physical health of the child. Unless I have an unexpected medical emergency, Bartholomew is _not_ going to be rushed."

Jane smirked. "But I thought you were exhausted?"

"I am, but I'm not going to risk his well-being for my own needs. That's what mothers are supposed to do. Put their children first."

With a large smile, Jane leaned toward the blonde to give her a soft kiss. She leaned down to address the baby in her usual manner. "You here that, Bartster? It's time for you to come on out and meet the world. Your mommies are getting tired of waiting on you."

The baby responded with a slight kick of understanding. A slight sound of movement from behind them, along with Maura's sudden tension in her limbs, brought Jane out of her shared bubble with her lover.

"Ma!" Jane exclaimed in frustration. "What are you doing up here? You think you could knock once and awhile?"

Angela frowned. "Well, you two shouldn't have disappeared out of the blue like that. It's incredibly rude, Jane. How do you think it makes your Aunt Theresa feel?"

"And how do you think it makes _us_ feel when you invade our personal space?" Jane retorted.

Angela released a large sigh before turning to Maura. "Is everything alright? Most of the family is starting to head out for the evening."

"Which means the food is starting to disappear to dangerous levels," Jane commented under her breath. She earned a glare from her mother in response.

Maura shook her head in amusement. She stood up from the couch with a heavy sigh. "I'm fine. I'll go down to show my face."

As the pregnant woman waddled downstairs, Jane took her mother to the side before she could follow suit, suddenly remembering something that had crossed her mind. She couldn't believe she was actually about to ask a request like this, but it had to be done for her peace of mind. _It's better to have a plan in place than nothing at all._

"Jane, what's gotten into you?" Angela asked, staring at her daughter's fiery eyes.

Jane ran her hands through her tangled curls, unsure of how to start to phrase a comment like the one she was about to make. "You know the baby can come at any time, right?"

"Obviously," Angela said matter-of-factly. "Maura told me that the doctor has already prepared her birthing suite. I still can't believe some of the amenities they've got in there. Smart television with HD and cable; a kitchenette with top of the line equipment…everything a new mother could possibly want while in labor. So you want to keep things small by not having too many people in the room with her or-"

"Mother, take a breath," Jane interrupted. "This is what I need to talk to you about." She shifted her weight to her other foot. "If for some reason I can't make the birth, I want you to take my place."

Angela furrowed her eyebrows. "Why wouldn't you be able to make the most important moment in your life? This is the birth of your child. Maura's going to need you to be there, not me."

"I know all of that, Ma," Jane said exasperatedly. "But work doesn't stop because Maura's going into labor."

"Have you told Maura this?"

Jane sighed. "I don't want her to worry. Keeping her relaxed and calm is what matters right now."

"And you actually believe that is a good idea?" Angela asked contemptuously.

"I don't need you to judge me. I'm telling you to do this for me because I think it's best for my family. You may not agree but at least respect my decision."

"Even if your decision is a shitty one?"

Jane rolled her eyes. "Ma…what do you want me to do? Dean needs me; Maura needs me. I can't be in two places at one time."

"But why pick Dean over Maura? Maura and Bart are more important. _Family_ is more important, Jane. I've taught you that, at least."

"I love my job," Jane stated. "This is who I am. This is what I do."

"And what about Maura? What about Bart, your son? Where do they figure into the mix?"

"They're both equally important to me," Jane argued. She could feel her face starting to flush in frustration. Nothing got her more annoyed than having her decisions questioned. "But I can't just tell Dean that I'm out, not now. Everyone has worked so hard on this operation."

After a brief silence, Angela crossed her arms. She couldn't stop her head from shaking in reluctant acceptance of her daughter's decision. "I don't agree with what you're doing."

Jane shrugged. "You're my ma. When have you ever agreed with anything I do?"

"I agreed with your decision to go out with Lorenzo what's his name after the whole Eric fiasco."

"Because you hooked me up with that ridiculous douchebag," Jane replied. She cringed at the memory of the sexist man who had been far too obsessed in BDSM. "That guy was such a mega-ass creeper. He made Ted Bundy look normal."

Angela frowned. "He wasn't that bad."

"You didn't have to spend an evening with him in a restaurant entitled 'The Dungeon,'" Jane muttered.

Angela smiled in amusement but quickly recovered after another heavy silence. "If you're not available, I'll step into your place, but you need to tell Maura about this."

Jane nodded reluctantly. "I will, I will. I'd be crazy not to."

"That'd be wise," Angela said. "The last thing you need to experience is the ire of a woman in her ninth month of pregnancy. You wouldn't believe some of the things I said to your father when he used to make jokes about my size when I was pregnant with you. He got better by the time Tommy was coming along but constant abuse will do that to a man-"

"Mother," Jane interrupted, putting emphasis on each syllable, "please…let's not talk about when you were pregnant with me. Next thing, you'll be telling me about your problems with bloating and gas. I'd like to help Maura downstairs _before_ everyone leaves."

-/-/-/-/-/-

The sound of angry pounding against a soft surface echoed around the house as Jane released some pent-up energy on her resilient partner, Mr. Everlast. Dressed in a turquoise exercise bra and matching shorts, warm trails of sweat glistened upon her taut muscles as she worked in rhythm to the frenzied music pounding into her ears. Ratatat, ratatat, ratatat.

Her legs were constantly moving, keeping pace with her quick jabs and strikes against the red punching bag. Sitting on the floor next to her, Maura kept one eye on the woman exerting her energy and the other on her solo chess game. She stretched her pajama covered limbs slightly before returning her attention back to the chessboard, looking for ways to improve her strategy.

"I'm surprised you haven't gotten up to pee yet," Jane huffed in between jabs. Her eyes stared fiercely at the immoveable object. "Bart must be taking a break."

Maura chuckled. She looked up at the sweaty brunette with a small smile. "Knock on granite."

"Knock on wood," Jane corrected absentmindedly as she danced around the bag with flying fists.

"Both granite and wood have similar properties of hardness. The expression is directly related to the hardness of the material so it really shouldn't matter which noun is used."

Jane stopped boxing for a brief moment. "No, that's not right. Finally I know something you don't know. My professor in junior college told me that knocking on wood is directly related to the Christian myth of luck associated with the cross. So, ha, it can't be granite."

"Hmm…you might be right," Maura frowned, reluctantly admitting defeat. "But one explanation hardly ends the debate. What about people who lack a cultural heritage in the Christian faith? My explanation might be more logical in that case."

Jane rolled her eyes. There was no use trying to argue with Ms. Know-It-All. If Maura wasn't so damn nice and agreeable all the time, she would have the beautiful blonde was nothing more than a pretentious, entitled, rich girl. But since she wasn't…she found the contrast unbelievable attractive, even after all these years.

"You know how sexy you look after you work out," Maura said, her chess game forgotten as the sweaty woman hung up her boxing gloves. "It makes it so hard to concentrate on anything else."

Jane smirked. She posed slightly, accentuating her long and fit figure to the drooling blonde. "I have that effect on people," she said sultrily. "But it works both ways."

"Don't lie," Maura blushed.

"How could I? Why would I want to? Just because you look like a grapefruit that's about to burst doesn't mean I don't find you attractive. Nothing changes on that front."

After a brief silence, Maura smiled. "Angela told me about your little conversation in the nursery."

"Of course she did." Jane ran her hand through her hair before moving to sit down next to Maura. Her mother couldn't resist the urge to be helpful in some way or other, even if it wasn't really that helpful. "So…are you mad?"

Maura shrugged. "Not really," she replied. "I feel like I should be, but I can't get the energy together to do so. All that really matters is that you're there for me and the baby after he's born. Being there for the birth…we can always watch it together when we have free time."

"Why…why are you so agreeable?"

"Would you rather I get angry and yell at you about something that doesn't really matter to me? I could if you'd like, but I'd rather not."

"So…that's it?" Jane asked incredulously. "Nothing else?"

Maura stood up from the floor with a crack of her knees in complaint. "Nope. Are you still going to read to Bart tonight? It's a little late, but I think he likes it when you read _Goodnight Moon_. He just calms right down."

Shaking her head, Jane stood up as well. "I can't. Dean wants me to come in. He's been calling me since six to stop by."

"For…"

"Only God knows."

Maura pouted. "Well that sucks. I guess I'm going to have to do reading duty for tonight but what about later? I'm going to go absolutely mad with boredom."

"Maybe your water will break?" Jane added wittily.

With a quick move, Maura reached up and slapped the smart-ass detective on her head. Jane immediately cowered in melodramatic fear. "Not funny, Jane."

"I thought it was pretty damn hilarious." Seeing Maura was about to wind up for another slap, Jane quickly reworded her earlier statement. "And I was simply stating a fact. It could happen, in theory."

"Don't make me have to hurt you."

"That sounds fun," Jane smirked.

"God," Maura exclaimed with mock frustration. "You really are a man in a woman's body. All you think about is sex, sex, sex."

"I never once mentioned sex. You're the one who brought it up."

"And you alluded to it."

Jane shrugged as she opened the half-closed door leading out into the hallway. "Just because you misunderstood my words doesn't mean I'm at fault. Your mistake, not mine."

"You're so lucky I love you so much," Maura said, struggling to refrain from laughing at her lover. "If not, I would have left you a long time ago. Then you and Dean could be together forever, reading entries from his journal on those lonely nights."

Jane laughed gutturally. "And you would have been with Elias. Eugh…too nasty even for words."

"Oh, don't say that. Elias is really sweet."

"Yeah, he can have his moments. But he still screams far too metrosexual for my tastes."


	36. Chapter 36

-/-/-Chapter 36-/-/-

Oscar walked out of the shower in her hotel room, drying her long blonde locks with a towel. The slight breeze from the air conditioning touched her bare, glistening skin, each drop of water running down her perpetually tired face. As the warm rivulets traced the outline of her curves, hot tears captured the muted light, managing to reflect the beauty of the artificial lights beaming from Boston's skyline. On the bed, Bone sat in position of keen anticipation, his fingers playing masterfully with the keyboard. He hardly noticed the beautiful, naked woman before him, raising a single eyebrow in recognition of her sudden presence.

"Better be careful putting your soul on display like that," Bone said, smiling slightly. He nodded toward the open window. "Might attract lechers. Or snipers."

With an eyebrow raised in amusement, Oscar walked over to the open window. She brazenly posed, allowing the red-orange rays from the sunset to caress her damp body. "I'm not scared of being honest, regardless of who might be watching." Oscar turned around to give Bone a flirtatious look. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

Bone laughed heartily. "It's a little late to ask now, don't you think? Besides, I've been your bodyguard since you were thirteen. Your birthday suit hasn't been a surprise since you came crying to me about showing you how to put in a tampon."

"We're moving forward," Oscar said, leaving humor behind.

Bone closed the laptop, transitioning smoothly from pleasure to work. "Taking them shouldn't be much work. Their fed friends and those local yokels won't even know what's happening until it's too late. But are you sure you want to do this?"

"Are you questioning my decision?"

"I know better than that, Silvia," Bone replied. He cracked a knot in his neck with a heavy sigh of relief. "I'm just taking on the role of devil's advocate. We both know how energized you get when you get close to the kill."

Oscar frowned. "An unfortunate choice of words, don't you think?" she asked icily.

"You're right," Bone replied after a brief silence. "I keep forgetting you haven't killed since what happened with those kids five years ago." He motioned his head toward the tattooed stars lining Oscar's waist, normally hidden from view. "Mistakes happen. Don't let them burden you."

"But I don't make mistakes."

Bone nodded. "And you won't. Not this time," he said.

Oscar released a heavy sigh. "Make sure they aren't hurt. I can't stress that enough. Your girlfriend and her little boy-toy are collateral. Keeping them alive is the only way this will work."

Bone made a slight sound of agreement. As Oscar continued to stare out at the window, oblivious to all potential voyeurs, her face briefly lost the mask of indifference that had become a daily ritual in order to deal with the stresses of being an interloper in the male dominated world of power, money, and greed. The dim fire of her amber eyes reflected back at her reminded her of the sadness that she could never seem to shake. Even now as she attempted to relax for her last time, Oscar felt the familiar shadow embracing her, waiting for her to submit to its strength.

What happened to me? Is that me? Where did my innocence go? Where did I go?

"Lea's still MIA," Bone interrupted, watching his boss and longtime friend.

Oscar dropped her head back, allowing the long blonde locks to tickle the small of her back. Miniscule as the sensation was, each teasing touch reminded her that she was alive. "She hasn't checked in with you?"

"Again, Silvia, why would she? She literally called me the devil last time I saw her. And I think she's a spoiled brat who doesn't know how spoiled she really is. As you see, our feelings for each other are mutual." Bone said, narrowing his eyes at the naked woman. "Can I make an observation?"

"Always, Bone," Oscar smiled weakly.

"Why don't we just call this whole mess off? We can jump on that private jet, be flying back to Salvador in no time, and spend the morning at your mother's ranch. This whole Boston job and Lea…it can all be forgotten. I know you want to go back home."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because your father's dead. Ever since your father gave you the business, you've spent all of your energy on cracking his legacy down, piece by piece. But now that he's gone… You just don't have the drive to keep this pace up. He left you before you could get your satisfaction and it's killing from the inside out."

A heavy silence covered the room as Oscar realized that everything Bone had said was true. She had been seriously considering bailing on Boston, Lea, and this charade of drugs and money she had wrapped herself in since inheriting her father's business as a young adult ever since Lea had shown up at her apartment in her typical bitchy mood. The idea of giving the façade up to save what sanity she had left… It all sounded too good to be true to just live a quiet existence for once instead of manipulating and planning three steps ahead with every scenario.

But Oscar knew it was too late for that. Dreams like that were for those who were innocent, who didn't have blood on their hands. All she could do now was fight; continue fighting until an end was reached, no matter how deeper into the darkness this path took her. Bone knew this more than anyone.

Oscar smirked as her hair dropped into her eyes, framing her face like a small child. "Will we make a stop in New York for Henrietta? She'd murder me if I left her behind."

"Of course, as long as she brings those handcuffs and that bull whip. How much does her services cost anyway?"

"She's a professional dominatrix, Bone," Oscar said, "not a sex kitten. She won't have sex with you just because you pay her to emasculate you for a couple of hours."

With a hearty laugh at the vision of the tough Bone being whipped into submission by her girlfriend, Oscar walked over to the bed, dropping down on the mattress with another heavy sigh. Her blonde waves scattered across the white sheets, encapsulating the beautiful woman in a golden halo.

The mood shifted as she was reminded of her sister. "I don't understand you, sister. I've given you everything and you insist on being an idiot… Why? What are you planning in that small brain of yours?"

-/-/-/-/-/-

"What do you mean you don't know where she is?"

Jane's loud voice echoed around the safe-house as she glared furiously at Agent Dean's emotionless expression. Her hand twitched uncontrollably next to her holstered gun, anger threatening to overcome her walls of self-control.

Dean shrugged. "She slipped under the radar."

"How can one of your agents, who you were _fucking,_ by the way, just slip under the radar, Dean?" Jane screamed. She ran her hands through her curls, already feeling the tangles beginning to return. "You contacted her about helping us out with the case, didn't you? Why didn't you follow up on her absence back then?"

"I didn't think anything of it back then. I just assumed she was giving me the cold shoulder for…"

Jane narrowed her eyes, sensing a lie beginning to develop. "For what?"

"For breaking up with her before I told her to go back to Quantico."

Jane, for the first time in her adult life, was absolutely speechless. She didn't know what to do first: punch Dean in his nuts for dropping the ball or throw anything with a sharp edge at him, hoping something would result in damage. How could he be this stupid? Of all times, he had to pick now to not follow up on a potential double agent working for the very same guy they were trying to capture in their raid.

Damn it, Jane cursed bitterly. Moving forward with the raid now was too risky with Lea doing god knows what with god knows who. She had to call it off. But calling it off was just as reckless as sticking with it. Cisco, Bone, and Oscar were always one step ahead of them. If the feds didn't go forward with the raid, their odds of getting another chance like this one were slim to none.

"We'll find her, Jane," Dean offered apologetically, despite knowing how little his words meant in the reality of the situation. "Lea has never gone off like this. She'll turn up."

Jane shook her head. She didn't have time to worry on that mess right now. They had bigger fish to fry. If Lea was working with the enemy she would be treated like one when the time came. The team needed her and Dean to be focused on what they could control.

"Lea's a liability now. If you want to find her, then by all means, have at it. But do that _after_ we get everyone home safely with Cisco and his cronies behind bars." Jane lowered her head toward a list of last minute checks needed before they could give the go-ahead on starting the final phase. Everything was in order on her end. BPD's special task force from the Drug Unit was in place at the docks waiting for the signal to get in position where the meet was scheduled to occur and Dean's team was in place at Bone's place.

After a brief moment of silence, Jane felt Dean staring at her intently. She looked up with an annoyed glare. "Is there something else you'd like to confess concerning your inability to handle your job duties?"

"That's not fair, Detective."

"And it's not fair to me to have to explain to my mother that my brother is dead because my boss couldn't keep it in his pants enough to maintain his judgment," Jane deadpanned. "Unlike you, I take this seriously. If you can't handle this, then leave, Dean. God knows I'm not gonna stop you."

Dean frowned. "Listen, Jane, I'm sorry."

"Apologies don't mean much to me right now." Jane swiveled in her chair to give Dean her full attention. "I need you show me you can handle this. And, lately, you've been failing my expectations."

"Well, would this help?" Dean asked before throwing out a large manila folder with several confidential files and reports inside. "I called in some favors with my friends in the Bureau who can peek around Oscar, Bone, and Cisco without red tape. Some of the techies can help us look things through to find connections between them. We might be able to use some of the info in the interrogations to get one of them to take and plea and spill on the rest."

Jane skimmed over the files before returning her attention back to Dean. "We don't have time to play librarian. The raids are scheduled to happen," she checked her watch, "as soon as Frankie and Riley give the a-ok that Bone is heading out to the docks for the meet with the distributor. We're working the old-fashioned way with this, no radio transmitters. After the mess that happened last time, it seemed like an unnecessary risk. Korsak will have to send us their answer when they get into the car."

"They're going to be fine without them. This raid should be a simple grab-and-dash type operation."

Jane smiled. "You'd be surprised how quickly things like this can go sour."

The two sit comfortably as they weed through the acquired files, marking anything that can be used in the future. After a brief silence, Dean looked over at Jane with a frown.

"Do you need to take a break?"

"Why would I need to take a break?"

"I just think Maura would like it if you were at home with her, with the baby and all."

Lifting her head from her task, Jane sighed heavily. "She understands that this is my job."

Dean shrugged. "I'm sure she does. But I know I'd want you there…if I was a woman about to give birth to my first child."

"And you know so much about the issue with that smaller than average dick in your pants," Jane added sarcastically.

But before Dean could respond, several harried techies came running into the conference room, nearly toppling each other over in their rush.

"What's the emergency?" Jane said, swallowing the giggle at seeing the techies so red from physical effort.

One techie finally managed to catch his breath before the rest. "We…have…an emergency!" he exclaimed. The techie turned to Dean with a quivering lip. "Code red, sir! They're gone. Riley and Frankie have been taken."


	37. Chapter 37

-/-/-Chapter 37-/-/-

Wrapped in her soft covers, Maura laid on her back, arms and legs sprawled in all different directions on her king sized bed. A stream of moonlight came from the open blinds separating the sleeping blonde from the world outside. The streetlights fought against the brilliant moon rays but it was a waste of time, artificial and natural managing to blend perfectly in the muted streetlights below as they reflected on the various Porsches, Mercedes, Audis, and even the odd Bentley populating the Beacon Hill street in front of her townhouse.

"Jane…you've trapped his little pistachios in his diaper," Maura murmured in her sleep, her bare toes twitching slightly as they poked out from the sheet.

Sleeping in her little monogrammed bed near the door, Jo lifted her ears in complaint before returning back to sleep. Used to the odd variety of noises that frequently emanated from her two masters' bed during the night, she could hardly be bothered to move for Maura's verbal complaint.

A minute passed of muffled snores and snuffled barks from the two occupants. Suddenly, Maura jumped up from the bed, clutching her swollen stomach with an increasingly pained expression. The tears came flooding to her eyes against her will.

"Oh god," Maura gasped. "Bart…what's wrong?"

She caressed her stomach in an effort to soothe the pain slowly wrapping itself around her body with each passing second. The medical examiner struggled to interpret the signals coming into her sleep addled brain. "This must…be Braxton-Hicks…contractions. Nothing to worry…about."

Maura breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "False labor pains are normal as," a strong contraction gripped her muscles, "the due date approaches. Calm down, calm down…"

"This hurts," Maura groaned after what felt like days of overwhelming agony. She reluctantly started to get up from the warm bed. "What did Dr. Rose say if this happened? Umm…keep moving and stay calm."

The medical examiner began to stumble back and forth across the room in an effort to reduce the pain still pulsating from her uterus. Maura walked over to the window to open it, allowing some fresh air to enter the room. Sweat glistened from her bare arms and legs from the fight to repress the pain beginning to subside with each shaky step.

"I wish those damn books would have told me how much this is going to hurt," Maura cursed. Her hands clamped onto the window to unlock it and push it open. The feel of the Boston night breeze gave the blonde some relief. "God…I wish you were here, Jane. Where are you?"

-/-/-/-/-/-

Back at the safe house, everyone from the customary techies to the joint task force from BPD assigned to help out with the raid were all crammed into the conference room, staring at the large projection screen. Jane and the team, including Eric, sat near the front with focused expressions as the video began to replay for what felt like the fifteenth time since they had heard about Frankie and Riley's abduction.

"I will not mince words with you," Oscar said, offering little in the way of a greeting. "I have known about your investigation into Bone's affairs. Your undercover officers were a little too obvious, in my opinion." She smirked in response. "You really need to consider giving these kids a little more training before letting them off the leash. I smelled them out as rats when I first saw them.

"Regardless, I'd like to inform you that Bone has done something…a tad bit reckless. Two hours ago, he told me that he had decided to take into his custody a Detective Riley Cooper and an Officer Frankie Rizzoli, associated with," Oscar took a brief moment to read a small piece of paper off screen, "the Boston Police Department, working in conjunction with the FBI. On behalf of Cisco, I would like to say that this is a completely unacceptable act on my associate's part and he will be sufficiently punished. But I wish to make this right."

Oscar slung her heavy ponytail across her shoulders melodramatically. If I was a tad more naïve, I might think she actually feels sorrow for Bone's actions, Jane thought angrily. The woman was a brilliant actress. She could see why Maura had been so easily fooled by her disguise.

"At the end of this message, I have provided you with an address, time, and date. This is not some sort of trick or game. This location will be where I, on the behalf of Cisco, will personally deliver your undercover detectives back to you, safe and sound." Oscar smiled conspiratorially, her eyes twinkling in amusement. "But Cisco does expect something of likewise value for his generosity and magnanimity. It is the least you can do, after all. If it was my call, I would have just snapped their necks, thrown them in the Charles, and let the water wash away any hope for discovery." Oscar sighed heavily with a shake of her head. "Sadly, Cisco likes to follow morals and all that chivalric bullshit," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Before you start the cavalry charge, Cisco has requested some rules that must be followed if you expect to get your friends back alive. First, only one of you will be allowed to take them off our hands. Second, no back-up, wires, and firearms for whomever you choose to make the trade. We'll have sensors so don't even try to attempt to play games. Bone has a tendency to shoot to kill, I'm afraid," Oscar said with a playful wink. "As you can see, these stipulations are hardly complicated, but Cisco does expect your full cooperation with them, for your own safety."

Oscar's amber eyes glared out from the camera's inner lens, capturing everyone's full attention.

"Oh, and by the way, I really hope you decide to pick that detective – what's her name? – Jane Rizzoli. I forgot to send her and that pretty wife of hers a baby shower gift. That was a couple of days ago, wasn't it? After my unexpected visit last time, I just had this feeling you wouldn't want to see me waltzing into your house with all of your family and friends present. Might cause trouble and all that."

Jane growled, unable to restrain the frustration upon hearing that bitch even mention her family. How she knew about the baby shower, she could care less. There was no point crying over spilt milk. She just wanted to make sure it never happened again. Taking her down in cold blood would likely accomplish her goal, however, it would risk Frankie and Riley's lives and leave them shit outta luck when it came to capturing Cisco.

I can't just throw away two lives just for vindication, Jane thought ruefully. Keep it together. Behind her, Korsak offered his old partner a comforting pat on her shoulder. It was a small gesture but all that was needed to remind the detective to focus on the big picture of taking down Cisco and his little band of deviants.

The blonde stood up and began to fiddle with the camera. The focus went out, leaving her audience with fuzzy details, before the focus returned on the image of Riley and Frankie bound together in a chair, their mouths covered in duct tape as they squirmed in vain to get out of their restraints. Despite the situation, both UCs looked relatively calm and, most importantly, unhurt by their temporary captors.

"As you can see," Oscar's disembodied voice called out from somewhere behind the camera, "I have upheld my end of the bargain. They are safe and unharmed and will continue to be unless _you_ decide to force my hand by not following Cisco's simple instructions. I have no wish to see your compatriots hurt, killed, or maimed in any way. Please. Don't make me have to do something I would regret."

The video cut to black for a brief second before a blank screen with a single address, time, and date were displayed. After another brief second, they too were wiped clean, leaving the detectives, federal agents, and auxiliary members in silence. Jane knew what they were all thinking: what do we do now?

Dean stood up from the seat with a frown to address everyone in the room. "Okay everyone. Watching this video again isn't going to help us." He turned to the techies waiting near the wings, waiting anxiously for a job so they could return back to their cubbie holes filled with artificial light, Mountain Dew, and pita chips. "I want the tech team to get everything they can on this address she's given us for the meet. Building plans, exits/entrances, street access, the whole nine yards. Anything you get, feed it back to me and the guys who are going to be in the field so they can start working out contingency plans while we've still got some time." He checked his Swatch with a quick flick of the wrist. "Roughly twenty-four hours, by the way. Until then I want everyone working around the clock."

Everyone nodded in response, glad to finally have a job to focus their anxieties on. The room emptied in a blink, leaving only Dean, Jane, and the rest of the team alone to handle their own personal dilemmas concerning the unexpected turn of events.

"Listen, Jane," Eric began cautiously. "I don't want to be a Debby Downer, but this could end really badly. The last time I trusted Oscar, she screwed me over in more ways than one. I know what you're thinking-"

"You could never know what I'm thinking, Eric," Jane scowled, glaring at the cool prosecutor sitting across from her.

Eric returned her unspoken challenge with a challenge of his own. "You can't risk your life just to save Frankie and Riley. Did you hear what she said? Oscar wants you _specifically_ to come and make the trade. This is asking for trouble, Jane. Don't be stupid and fall for this trick."

"And don't you dare tell me what I should or shouldn't do for my team!" Jane bellowed, her frustration over seeing her brother and fellow detective tied up with all of their power taken away finally bubbling over after having seethed for so long. "My brother is in there, Eric! Riley is in there! Telling me to sit on my ass and _wait_ like a good little girl for a better opportunity to come up isn't an option. I know she fucked your life up twice. It sucks, I know. But I can't sit and wait for them to be killed, not under my watch. If she wants to see me and only me in order to trade for their lives then everything is settled."

Eric's jaw dropped. He was completely flabbergasted by the woman he used to be able to talk sense into. "But, Jane…c'mon, listen to me-"

"We're doing it her way."

"Jane, are you hearing me?" Eric said exasperatedly. "There's no reason for us to be doing this. Stop thinking everything is a Shakespeare play for a second and use your brain. She said this isn't a game, but who knows? For all we know she could be dragging us into a distraction to get us to walk into this place, with our defenses down, to watch a video of her killing them in a whole different location all together."

Jane's eyes exploded in fury. "Do you really think I want to hear that right now?"

"Well, I kinda think you oughta hear it since you're acting like a bitch."

Watching the normally cool as a cucumber prosecutor going after his world-renowned volcano of an ex-partner, Korsak quickly intervened. Now was definitely not the time to be biting each other's head off. "Jane," he whispered in her ear, "we need to look at the big picture. Frankie and Riley are counting on us to do what they can't: remain objective."

Hearing his voice provided a salve to her fiery temper. "And I know that but…there's no other alternative."

Frost nodded. "Oscar has the ball in her court. There's not much we can do but follow the lead she's given us and hope she's not bullshitting us."

The room went silent as everyone slowly began to process the weight of Frost's words. Dean coughed to refocus everyone's attention away from the negative thoughts. "Then we'll compromise." He turned toward Jane and Eric with a small smile. "The NSA gave me a lead regarding where we can get more information on Cisco, Oscar, and Bone. He's willing to assist us with our operation and discuss what he knows. There's not enough time for us to handle this properly, but I'm sending you and Eric to the federal detention center where he's housed. It's in Philadelphia, so we'll be sending you on one of our jets on a red-eye from Logan and back."

Jane raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Who is this guy? Shouldn't we be focusing on what Cisco is planning to get out of this trade for Frankie and Riley's lives? And how are we going to get back to Boston before the meet?"

"I don't have time to explain," Dean said, shaking his head. "But we'll get you guys back before the meet. I know how much you want to meet Oscar." He turned to Eric, reaching to grab something from the small table behind him. "Make sure this interview doesn't get out of hand. I need to give you some papers before you leave."

With a frown, Jane watched as Eric and Dean headed out of the room to discuss something privately about the folder in his hand. Well…aren't they chummy all of a sudden, she thought suspiciously. The two men were practically walking with their pinkies entwined, leaving her completely out of the loop as to what all of the secrecy was about. Despite Korsak's understanding tone, the desire to punch something continued to rebuild against her will as red began to color the corners of her eyes.

"Hey, Jane…I'm sorry about all this," Frost began quietly. "We're going to get them back."

But Jane was not having it. She flung herself away from the table before galloping out of the room in a barely disguisable huff of annoyance. Frost made a move to go after his partner to help calm her down, but Korsak shook his head.

"Let her go," Korsak said. "She's not in the mood. If you try to talk to her now, she'll bite your head off with little remorse."

-/-/-/-/-/-

The smell of honey and chamomile tea wafted through the house as Maura sat in the dimly lit living room with Jo by her side. She ruffled the dog's shaggy hair as she drank the hot concoction from the mug, smiling as the heat washed down her throat, providing her with some sort of minute relief from the anxiety of earlier. The false labor pains had ceased but her concern had not.

Once she told Jane about it, however, she knew things would get better. Jane always knew what to do in situations like this. She would attack the problem and have a solution in no time. But that was only if she bothered to show up.

"Where is she?" Maura asked absentmindedly. The words had become an unwelcome mantra for far too long. While she downed the last remnants of liquid in the cup, Maura's empty hand continued to caress her swollen stomach in an effort to ease Bart's nervous fluttering in response to the unexpected change in her sleeping schedule.

Jo lifted her ears as she searched Maura's nervous hazel eyes. "Rrruff?"

"Sorry, Jo," Maura smiled. "I keep forgetting you can't talk."

Suddenly, the sound of keys jangling in the door brought Maura's attention to the door.

Maura smiled as she stood up. "Jane! Where have you been-"

But before she could finish, Eric exited from the shadows behind the detective. They both rushed in without so much as a warm greeting or an explanation, focused on an unknown goal. He looked just as harried as Jane but, in her current state, Maura saw little else but her lover's reassuring face.

"Maura…what are you doing up?" Jane said stupidly, making her way upstairs without stopping to address the look of relief on the blonde's face. "You should be asleep. Did you have a nightmare?"

"Well…not exactly."

With her long strides, Jane quickly made her way into the bedroom where she started to unceremoniously throw a couple of clothes in a duffel bag. "What do you mean not exactly?" she asked, hardly paying attention.

"I had Braxton-Hicks contractions," Maura said simply. She stopped after noticing the crazed way Jane was running around the room. "Jane…what's going on?"

"Frankie and Riley were kidnapped last night. Eric and I are heading to Philadelphia to get some more information on Cisco before we meet to get them back. It shouldn't take long."

Maura's eyebrow rose in complaint. "What? But…how is this…what would…" She shook her head. "You can't leave, Jane. Not now. Didn't you hear me? I had _Braxton-Hicks_ contractions."

"So?"

"So…I could go into labor at any moment." Maura walked over to where Jane was finishing up her packing to embrace the strong woman. Just the smell of the detective's unique honey and spice shampoo both comforted her and revealed a hidden well of strength within her that Maura had forgotten about. "Please…don't go. I'm scared. All of that stuff I said about not needing you at the birth…I lied. I need you with me. Stay here with me, please? Jane, I need you to be with me right now."

Jane leaned down to kiss Maura's tears away. "Honey, I'll be back in a couple of hours." With a smile, she kneeled down to place her head on her wife's swollen belly. "Hey, Bartster. It's your Mommy Jane here. I want you to wait for me to come back before you decide to grace us with your presence, okay?"

With a weak smile, Maura attempted to release a choked laugh from her throat, coming out instead as a frightened squeak. She knew based off the determined look in Jane's eyes that there wouldn't be any diverting her from her task. The detective was on a mission. God help anyone who was unlucky to get in her way…including her wife and unborn child.

They made their way downstairs where Eric continued to patiently wait in the shadows. He looked at his watch, tapping his feet anxiously.

Jane kissed Maura before opening the door for a second time. "I love you."

"Love you more," Maura said weakly, ignoring the tears continuing to fall down her cheeks in silent entreaty to Jane's sudden and unwelcome departure.

The door slammed shut with a finality that brought another torrent of hot tears from Maura's eyes. Her breath came in heaving intervals as she crumpled next to the door, wishing with every ounce of her exhausted being for her lover to return back to her arms.

"I don't know if I can do this without you," Maura repeated breathlessly in a sorrowful mantra. "I just don't know if I can do this without you, Jane."


	38. Chapter 38

-/-/-Chapter 38-/-/-

The private jet used for the feds during urgent missions sliced through the air at 32,000 feet, bringing its occupants closer to their goal of questioning this unexpected source who knew so much about Oscar and, most importantly, was willing to talk. Besides an occasional ripple of turbulence, the ride was as easy as cutting through a warm stick of butter with a butcher knife.

Inside the luxurious cabin, Jane and Eric slept peacefully in preparation for what promised to be a long day. Both the prosecutor and detective had changed shortly after lift-off into comfortable clothes to get some sort of sleep before they arrived in Philadelphia. They had left Logan around four am. The pilot had personally assured them it wouldn't take more than an hour to get to the private runway and another to be escorted to the federal detention center in Philadelphia's historic district. Eric had explained to Jane that the contact was being held there in preparation for a federal trial including numerous murder and white-collar crime charges but she filed away most of the information for later, focused exclusively on getting this done and rescuing Riley and Frankie from Oscar.

Feeling the sun on his face, Eric was the first to twitch back awake after their brief nap. He stretched in his Boston Bruins shirt, leaning over to tap the drooling detective. Despite the relaxed position on her body, Jane's expression was still just as tough as it was when she was awake. "Wakey-wakey, eggs in bakey," he whispered, yawning midway through the childish phrase.

Jane groaned. "What the hell do you want?"

"God, I missed that bedside humor."

Opening her eyes, she stretched, bringing her black Misfits shirt riding up her toned stomach. "It's too early for your unique brand of humor, Eric," Jane pouted. "What time is it?"

"Nearly six. We should be landing soon." Eric yawned again, cutting off his words. "You might want to change back into your suit before we land. I'll probably do the same once my legs decide to wake up."

Jane nodded slowly, still half asleep. She turned back to the prosecutor with narrowed eyes, not wishing to let an opportunity to snoop pass her by. "Who's this lead that we're meeting anyway?"

"Dean told me not tell you until we get to detention center."

"But don't you think I deserve to know the dangers that lie ahead?"

Eric shrugged. "There's nothing to fear. Everything is secure. Just enjoy the ride and relax. This will be your last time to do so until we get back Frankie and Riley tonight."

Mentioning Frankie and Riley's name brought the tension from last night back to her attention. How she had managed to forget about their kidnapping was beyond her, but what really got her worried was Maura's behavior last night. She had been in an oddly needy mood, not to mention the chaos of the kidnapping and Dean's decision to ship them off to play errand boy to question this lead, whoever the hell it turned out to be.

Maura didn't deserve to be brushed off like that. The pregnancy was taking a toll on her. Each day brought them closer and closer to the scheduled due date. Jane had wanted to stay and ease her fears about the Braxton-Hicky whatevers that she had seemed so freaked out about but the world didn't have a stop button just because her wife was having an anxiety attack. Everything would be fine. Right?

_Obviously not since I have to ask myself the question in the first place._

Jane released a heavy sigh, concern starting to make her nervous. "Damn it," she cursed. Leaning over the armrest, she retrieved her duffel bag of clothes, taking out a matching pair of starched pants, suit jacket, and an orange shirt. "Hey, Grizzly. Turn around while I change."

Eric made a sound of disbelief. "You're kidding, right? There's a bathroom on the plane. It's actually fairly roomy if you'd bothered to use it."

"Don't whine," Jane replied, already slipping off the grey pair of Red Sox sweatpants, "it's unbecoming. And you make it seem like you've never seen my body before."

"Which is exactly why I don't want to see you now." Eric turned away from the changing brunette awkwardly, shielding his eyes from any kind on impropriety on his part. "Maura loves you. I don't want her to freak out knowing I saw you…in such a delicate position."

"Stop being so damn sensitive."

"And maybe you should try being a tad bit more sensitive."

Jane whipped her head back in frustration. She decided to let the subtle jab go as she focused on redressing. Even when they were going out over ten years ago, Eric had always had a lovely tendency of being a smart-ass at the wrong times. There was no off-switch in his mind as to when things would or wouldn't be appropriate.

"You finished?" Eric asked after a long silence. "Please tell me you don't need help."

"No, I don't need help. I just… I've always wanted to say sorry for what happened back then, during that trial with Bone ten some odd years ago. I screwed up your life."

Eric shrugged. "I made the decision to run away with my tail between my legs, not you. I've made peace with it and so should you." He ran his hand through his dramatically styled hair, cracking his knuckles. "And if I were you, I'd save the self-pity for that wife of yours. I wouldn't be surprised if you come back and all of your stuff is on the front lawn."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you treat her like a dog. What do you think happens when you treat a woman like that?" he asked with a laugh. "You get the boot. I don't think being a lesbian changes the outcome too much."

"You don't know jack," Jane scowled, her anger bubbling to the surface.

"And you're a bitch," Eric bantered back, smirking all the while.

Jane frowned. "My work is important to me. Maura understands that."

"Just because she understands doesn't mean she's jumping for joy every time you run away to put on your cape and mask for another day of being SuperJane."

"I am not running away! This is my life. I can't change who I am." Jane growled.

Eric shrugged, turning his head toward the window. "Then what do you call it? You didn't have to be here, Jane. I could have taken Frost or even Korsak on this if you had made a complaint about needing to be home with your wife yet no complaint was made. Not even a whisper. I wonder why?"

All of Eric's verbal jabs had been running rampant in Jane's mind since sleep gave her the benefit of hindsight to her actions this morning. He was right, as always. Acknowledging his rightness didn't do much to make her feel any better though. If anything, it made her want to tell the pilot to go back to Boston so she could offer a much needed apology to Maura and beg to be forgiven…again.

But then the vision of Frankie and Riley sitting tied up in some nondescript room, waiting for the rescue that was sure to come, reminded her how important it was to stay the course. Her team, her family, needed her to go talk to this mystery source and get as much info as possible in order to be prepared for this meet. They were counting on her. She couldn't let them down.

_And what about Maura and your unborn child? Aren't they counting on you just as much as Riley and Frankie are?_

Jane shook her head furiously in a lame effort to remove the negative thoughts from the depths of her conflicted mind. Those were questions she neither had the time nor desire to answer right now. She had to focus on what was pertinent: saving her brother and her team mate from Oscar, Bone, and Cisco's clutches. Maura and the baby could wait.

"You know what? Instead of asking me stupid questions that aren't any of your business, why don't you get ready? I don't want to have to wait on you when we land. The quicker we can get this over, the better. Boston is where we need to be, not running around Philadelphia chatting up a criminal."

-/-/-/-/-/-

Jane looked up at the clock in the corner of the interview room, tapping her feet anxiously. Where is this mysterious contact that Dean insisted on wasting precious time with? She gazed down at her own watch to make sure the time was accurate. Both devices were synced perfectly and displayed the same time.

"Eric," she said exasperatedly, turning her head to gaze at the relaxed prosecutor adjusting his cufflinks while reading over the secret files. "It's nearly a quarter till eight."

"I'm so happy you can tell time. If only you could read, then you'd be the perfect woman."

Jane slapped Eric on his head. Eric barely flinched, used to the physical punishment from his ex-fiancé. "Where's this source at? He was supposed to be here, fifteen minutes ago. You do remember that we don't have all day to wait around?"

"Trust me, I remember." Eric slowly began to set out various recorders and legal pads around the well-worn metal table to assist in collecting as much information as possible without having to stop when the interview started.

They would only have thirty minutes with this mystery source, every question had to count. He glanced over at the anxious detective with a frown, understanding why Dean had asked for him to go with her on this little adventure. If Jane knew who was scheduled to appear, she would have been bouncing off the walls or, worse, wouldn't be able to recover any useable intel.

"Just calm down, Detective," Eric replied, rocking back and forth in his chair. "He's probably not used to receiving visitors."

"Then he should be jumping at the bit to come down and see us."

Eric shrugged. "Not everyone is so eager to talk to the police in a federal detention center."

Before Jane could return another comment to Eric's infuriatingly calm demeanor, the sound of clanking restraints in a counter-rhythm to the slight shuffling of padded feet brought her eagle-eye focus back to the two metal doors where detainees were led from their cells. The doors opened with a mechanical swoosh, releasing the filtered air from inside to reveal a face she hadn't thought she'd see again. What the hell…

"Well…isn't this a surprise, Detective Rizzoli. I haven't seen you since you waved me off at the hospital into federal custody."

Paddy Doyle…the last man she wanted to see. As he shuffled toward her with two uniformed guards restraining his white jumpsuit covered arms, the memories from her time with the mob boss flashed before Jane's eyes. Colin's murder, Maura's discovery of Paddy being her biological father, keeping her hostage in more ways than one, and, most importantly, Jane's decision to shoot him in that burned down warehouse nearly two years ago.

As much as she knew Maura wanted her too, she still didn't feel remorse for her actions that day. Paddy had shown up out of nowhere to protect his daughter and, potentially, murder her and a federal agent who had stupidly thrown himself into the line of fire. He had made the decision to shoot a federal agent. In response to his decision, she had naturally perceived Paddy as a threat, regardless of his biological ties to Maura. In that moment, she was thinking with her instincts, shaped by years of training and experience in the field. Paddy was a threat. Nothing more, nothing less.

From the tired expression on Paddy's face, Jane wondered if she would ever feel any remorse for her actions. Probably not. Paddy was a mob boss working with the Irish mob, or what was left of it. Most of the old timers were beginning to die of old age or prison time but Paddy was one of the few still active and his position on the BPD's most wanted list reflected that. There was no other way to look at it. Paddy was a bad man who had made bad decisions. But still…

How do I tell him that I'm having a child with his biological daughter, Jane contemplated. He needs to know or does he?

Eric coughed slightly to return Jane's attention to the matter at hand. "Hello, Mr. Doyle. Do you know why you're here?"

Doyle gave a long look at the detective glaring at him before returning his gaze to Eric. "Not the slightest," he said simply. "But I'd like to know why you and Detective Rizzoli have decided to interrupt my stay at federal lock-up."

"That's not relevant, Paddy. We're here to learn more about The Cisco Kid and some of his colleagues, more specifically a woman named Oscar Grey. Agent Dean said you were willing to discuss the issue."

"Will I receive some sort of compensation for my deeds or am I doing this out of the kindness of my heart?"

Eric smirked. Negotiating pleas and playing legal chicken with criminals was right up his alley, nothing made the prosecutor happier. He was clearly enjoying the ability to stretch his legal legs with a legendary member of the Boston mob scene. "Depends on the deal."

"I'm going to be on trial for 15 counts of murder, 3 counts of money laundering, 10 counts of bribery, and god knows what else, Mr. Prosecutor. I need something more substantial than that to warrant my cooperation in whatever nonsense you have going on."

"How about not getting your brains blown out in the middle of the night?" Jane snarled, interrupting the centuries old mental chess game taking place between the prosecutor and the criminal.

"Jane," Eric growled in warning. "Either calm down or wait outside. I don't need you here. Remember that next time you open your mouth."

Jane frowned in annoyance but allowed Eric to continue his game uninterrupted. The guards situated around the three of them lowered their raised guns as the threat of potential violence passed.

Eric sighed, leaning forward with a raised eyebrow. "What do you want, Mr. Doyle?"

"I haven't seen my daughter in far too long. Waiting for this dog and pony show of a trial to start is torture without seeing her, knowing she's safe," Paddy said sadly. "I'd like to see her."

"There's no need for you to see her," Jane replied, her eyes hot with controlled fury. She crossed her arms across her chest in a silent challenge. "I'm doing a pretty damn good job of protecting her without your illegal assistance. And Maura already knows all about her biological mother. We've met Hope. They've come to an understanding of sorts so you're not needed. You were never needed."

Paddy glared at Jane, taking her unspoken challenge. "Is that so?"

"Yeah, it is." Jane leaned forward in the uncomfortable metal backed chair. "I don't want you seeing Maura ever again. The day you get to see her is on your death bed and even then it'll be a quick look to make sure your body is cold before dumping you in the cheapest cedar box we can find."

"You're not her keeper, Detective."

"And you're not her father, Paddy," Jane scowled. "She trusts me. I bet you can't say the same. Every time she's reminded of you, she gets sad. I hate seeing my best friend sad. Is that really what a daughter should feel when thinking of the man who calls himself her 'father'?"

Watching the two go back and forth, Eric coughed a second time. They didn't have all day to argue over who loves Maura more. Frankie and Riley needed them to get as much information as possible from Paddy concerning Oscar and Cisco.

"We need to know about Oscar, Paddy. Offers are off the table until we get what we need."

Paddy frowned. "What do you need to know?"

"Everything."

Paddy twitched uncomfortably, as if dreading the disclosure of information to the prosecutor and detective. It was beyond rude to divulge information about others in the underworld. Everyone was ultimately out for themselves but no one wanted to do business with a snitch, an idea taught in Crime 101. Paddy was no exception to the rule. He had survived throughout the years under this old principle; it was hard to be rid of old habits.

"Well, in case you guys don't know this, Oscar Grey is just an alias she uses to do her business. Her real name is Silvia Grey, named after her deceased mother. Her father, Escobar, was like most; he saw opportunity and took it when it came to the drug scene. The cocoa fields in Brazil that were his family's property, he converted them into a growing center for cocaine. Apparently the wife didn't enjoy this change in affairs and threatened to leave with their daughter when Silvia Jr. was born but Escobar didn't approve of that decision." Paddy narrowed his eyes in silent disapproval. "He killed her to shut her up and took baby Silvia under his wing, hoping she would show an interest in the business when she got older to take over in his stead."

"And?" Jane encouraged as Eric continued to scribble each new fact on his legal pads.

"Turns out he was right. Silvia showed a talent with the business. The kid was a criminal genius. By the time she was thirteen, she had developed a business plan to improve the local profit margins of the cocoa farmers in the area. Silvia took over her father's affairs when she turned seventeen, a graduation gift of sorts. That right hand man of hers, Bone, provided her with the practical knowledge she lacked during her early years of running her father's estate," Paddy said. "That's how I got to know her. During the transition years, she invited the best of the best in the business to come under her wing by showing us how much profit could be earned in the new underground world of drug production and smuggling. Given my…issues with the government in the 90s, I happily took the chance to get out of the country and do some reconnaissance on the new face popping up all over the coast making a name for herself as 'Lady Cocaine'."

Paddy took a sip of water from the Styrofoam cup on the table. "The Irish mob doesn't mess with drugs. We didn't have the capacity to move and work it on the streets back then. But I knew – by the way things were going in the 90s – drugs were going to be the next big black-market commodity on everyone's radar. Literally, within a couple of months, Silvia was raking in a tremendous profit with just her cocaine product alone. I suggested during my stay that she consider expanding into exotics."

Jane frowned. "Wait…Silvia did or Cisco?"

"Having trouble keeping up, Detective?"

"No, I just… Well, they're two different people. The way you're making it sound, they're the same…"

Both Jane and Eric looked at each other at the same time, sharing the same disbelief. If Paddy was telling the truth – and why would he not? – it meant that they had been approaching this whole thing wrong from the very beginning. Instead of looking for Cisco or Oscar, they should have been looking for them as one entity instead of separately.

Shit, Jane cursed. She wanted to slap herself for such a large and critical oversight. This explained why Oscar's appearance had thrown them all out of whack several months ago. The queen bee had decided to come out to play. Based off of Paddy's characterization of the woman, they didn't have much of a chance coming up with a strategy against Silvia without major back-up.

"But…why would her father just turn over his business to Oscar?" Eric asked, completely bewildered, his task of writing down the key facts of Paddy's testimony forgotten.

Paddy's lips turned in a slight upward motion. "'Cause he was a total gangster wannabe. For him, the business was just a way to live a lifestyle. That idiot nearly spent his entire fortune on rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous like he was the second coming of Bugsy Siegel. You know, that's how he met his second wife, if I'm not mistaken. She was some lost third cousin of the Carnegies or some old white family with far too much money. They had a daughter, I think."

"So you're saying Oscar and the Cisco Kid are one in the same?" Eric clarified for the recorders.

Paddy nodded. "I can't believe she kept that horrible nickname. When I spent time at her home in Brazil, I gave it to her on a drunken whim. She was still just a kid back then. Silvia was brilliant. The way she and Bone acted together reminded me of all those old comics I used to read in my father's attic about _The Cisco Kid_," he said with a smile before closing his eyes in thought. "Silvia was always the woman I hoped Maura would turn out to be: smart, beautiful, tough, and confident in her skills.

"I really hoped Silvia would move on to something legit, use all of that talent for good instead of evil, but even she couldn't escape the business. It was sad. She never had the same love for it as her father did. I always got the feeling she was doing it because she had to, not because she wanted to."

"Pancho and Cisco. Bone and Oscar," Jane thought out loud. She ran her hands through her tangled loose curls. "Why didn't I put that together before now?"

"Bone's a good guy, always plays fair," Paddy replied. "But why do you need to know all of this? Is Maura in trouble?"

Knowing Jane's inevitable boneheaded response, Eric quickly cut her off before she could get started on the tirade that would surely come. "A detective and officer were kidnapped while working undercover. We need to get them back."

Paddy released a rare smile upon his lips. "I'm sure Bone did all of the work. He's probably still following her around like an obedient puppy on a leash…"

"She's proposed a meet with her alone to make a trade," Eric added, ignoring Paddy's musings. "Is she trustworthy or should we be on our toes?"

"I wouldn't worry about her being trustworthy, Mr. Prosecutor. Silvia is one of the rare members of the new generation who actually follows a moral code like the old school did. She doesn't get off on killing like most. But if I were you, I'd still keep a close watch. The woman is calculating, always plans four steps ahead. Before you agree to anything she says, think it through to make sure you aren't being screwed down the line." Paddy chuckled at a memory that came to his attention. "It's her calling card of sorts. She'll use something as a pawn in order to get somewhere else down the line. God knows she did it with me enough times."

Unexpectedly, the sound of a loud beep with the addition of loud clanging from the door behind them starting to unlock reminded them that their time with the detainee was up. In confusion, Jane looked briefly at her watch before continuing their interview. This was the last time – god willing – they would ever see this man before he went off to real prison for a long, long, long time. She wanted to clear everything up.

"Anything else?" Eric asked.

"And be careful with her half-sister. The girl has a bit of a Napoleon complex or something. She always compares herself with her sister," Paddy replied, ignoring the tugs for him to rise by the guards. "Silvia always joked that she was her Achilles heel."

He stood up after much poking and prodding from the no nonsense guards who wanted to get Paddy back into his cell so they could go on a much needed coffee run. As he stared down at Jane from her seat, she couldn't repress the shivers of fear that went through her soul.

"I guess seeing Maura would be out of the question?"

"You'd guess right," Jane said coldly.

Paddy thought for a brief moment. "Tell her congratulations on her first child. I'm glad she's having it with a woman as brave and capable as you."

Jane's jaw dropped. "What? How do you… How do you know…?"

"Walls have ears, Detective. My daughter is all I have to live for anymore. You really think I wouldn't know about whom or what has become her main focus as of late?"

With a smile, Paddy was ushered off, leaving Jane alone with her thoughts. Eric patted her shoulder as he began to clean up his piles of unused notepads and recorders. Just as the older man began to shuffle toward the thick security door, the frustrated detective stood up, bringing the metal chair clanging toward the tiled floor.

"It's going to be a boy," Jane exclaimed, her eyes burning bright with unleashed fury. "His name is Bartholomew."

Paddy smiled. "What a beautiful name for a beautiful little boy."

"And, you know what? I will do everything in my power to make sure he won't turn out like you. I'll be there for him and not dump him on a rich woman who wants to have a child like you did with Maura."

Paddy shook his head before returning back to his cell. Jane sighed heavily as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. "Let's get out of here. I've had my fill of Paddy Doyle for the rest of my adult life."

-/-/-/-/-/-

After the emotional turmoil of seeing Jane leave with little more than a sentence of explanation, Maura had spent the rest of the night tossing and turning in fits of combined pain and discomfort. Part of her knew it was just the result of the baby reacting to her own emotional impulse, but the less rational side of her mind, usually kept in check, slowly started to interpret the feelings as a sign of her impending labor.

_If I don't think about it, it won't happen. I need to stay positive. I won't go into labor today. Not today, of all days. Bart's due date isn't for another couple of days. He wouldn't come early. She told him to wait, after all._

But the mantra she continued to repeat did little to soothe her subconscious inclinations toward the negative thoughts dancing rampant in her mind. With the Braxton-Hicks contractions last night and the pain that kept her awake, labor had to be inevitable. Bart was coming, regardless of whether Jane was here by her side or not.

Sitting at the kitchen island, Maura began to stir her breakfast oatmeal nervously. She didn't really feel like eating much of anything but figured she could at least attempt to get some kind of nutrition. Oatmeal had a proven lowering effect on anxiety levels because of the high levels of omega-3s.

_I think the benefits can only come after the oatmeal is ingested, however. _

As Maura stared at the brown swirls of cinnamon blended into the mix, creating an unusual abstract pattern with little rhyme or reason, her eyes watered, blending the colors even further, as another shot of pain nearly left her breathless. Strong as she considered herself to be, the blonde wanted nothing more but to crumple down in tears with each faint pulsating wave of pain that travelled through her body.

"Thom…," Maura said weakly, using his nickname in an effort to soothe them both. "Not today…please, not today. Mommy Jane told you to wait, remember…"

Ignoring her complaints, another flash of pain nearly made Maura lose her balance on the chair. The feel of a sudden gush of wetness soon followed, soaking her custom made, bright green maternity dress, leaving an uncomfortable wet spot on the $300 velvet cushion. A surprised sigh came from her lips as she struggled to understand the rapidly escalating turn of events.

"Oh no…not today, Bart," Maura cried out, tears finally managing to flow from her reddened eyes in an endless river. "What am I doing to do now?"

After a brief moment of thought and heavy breathing, Maura stood up and walked over to the far side of the counter where her phone resided. She pushed several keys with shaky fingers and waited with an eerie sense of calm as the phone rang and rang for what felt like days.

"Who is this?" Stanley's voice screamed out from the speakers. The sound of annoyed customers could be heard in the background along with Angela's calm voice as she talked about the daily specials with a customer.

Maura blinked at the aggressive tone. "Maura Isles? Stanley…what are you doing answering Angela's cell?"

"We're busy, Isles. Angela can't talk."

"If you're so busy, then why are you talking to me?" Maura asked bitterly, not in the mood to listen to Stanlela the Hun's endless bitching about nothing important. "This is an emergency. A family emergency."

With a grumble of complaint, Maura heard the phone being passed to Angela with a muffled complaint. "Maura, how are you?" Angela asked in her motherly tone. "Sorry about Stanley. I don't know why he feels the need to micromanage everything all the time. He means well…I guess. Is everything alright with the baby?"

"Umm," just then a sudden contraction gripped the blonde with heavy pain, bringing a loud groan from her lips, "not exactly."

Angela, completely focused on her own voice, heard nothing. "Jane has some nerve leaving you stranded right now. I don't know what's gotten into her. She won't tell me anything except, 'Don't worry, ma. I got it under control.' She needs to reexamine her priorities. To treat the woman who's going to give birth to my grandchild like this-"

"It's time, Angela," Maura whispered, unable to raise her voice in pain.

"Yeah, I agree. It's time for a Rizzoli intervention."

Maura shook her head. Her vision began to blur as another contraction started to build in intensity. "No…I'm going into labor."

Angela screamed loudly in excitement. To protect her ears, Maura moved the phone from her ears until the sound ceased. Despite the pain she was struggling to deal with, she couldn't help but smile at Jane's mother's exuberant display of emotion.

"I'll be right over," Angela said giddily. The sound of Stanley's complaints echoed slightly in the background. "Don't worry, honey. Everything is going to be alright. Just sit and try to be calm until I get there, okay?"

Maura nodded. "I'll try. But don't rush or anything. My contractions are still relatively spaced out. My cervix couldn't be dilated more than a couple of millimeters. I guess I could do a self-exam while I wait. I think I still have an old speculum in the closet from when Jane wanted me to play doctor-"

Angela quickly interrupted, not wanting to know that much about her daughter's personal life, "Good, good. I'll see you in a minute."

Both women said their goodbyes, leaving Maura alone once again. Her body went on autopilot as she casually cleaned up her uneaten bowl of oatmeal, made her way upstairs to pack a small bag of absolute necessities that Dr. Rose had suggested she bring to the birthing center with her for herself and the baby, and walked downstairs to wait for Angela to arrive.

Each action reminded Maura of Jane's absence. Instead of dropping into tears, however, she decided to take control of things like the strong mother she had to be.

As she gingerly began to lower her tired body down on the couch, Maura took out her phone from her overnight bag. Her hands trembled with the exhilaration and fear that came with finally getting to see the child that had been waiting in the wings of their lives for far too long. She dialed her lover's phone number, hoping Jane would pick up. One ring, two rings, three rings, and four rings passed before the gruff voice of her voicemail came on, bringing a disappointed sigh to Maura's lips.

"You've reached Detective Jane Rizzoli. Leave me a message and I'll get back to you."

"Hey, honey, it's me," Maura said shakily. "Bart decided to come a little earlier than expected. And, before you freak out, I've already called your mother to take me to the birthing center." Tired of beating around the bush, she fiddled with her fire opal ring anxiously. "Listen…I know I was really needy last night but…I need you here. It's selfish to want to take you away from saving Frankie and Riley, I know. But…you need to realize that being a hero isn't a part of your job. You're my wife and Bart's mother. I should be your main priority, not running around Philadelphia talking to god-knows-who about god-knows-what." As if in complaint of her verbal assault against the detective, another heavy contraction began to rise up in preparation to wash away her flimsy resolve and reasoning. "Just…just get here when you can, Jane. I really do need you here for support. I didn't realize how much this would…hurt. I love you. Call me back."

-/-/-/-/-/-

"Shit, can you believe that asshole? He had some nerve bringing up my relationship with Maura like he's the authority on whatever his biological daughter does."

Eric turned his head to look at the cursing brunette as she continued her eruption from earlier. She had been like this since leaving the federal detention center, going on and on about Paddy this and Paddy that. All of the information they had learned about Cisco and Oscar being the same person was off her radar as her eyes continued to burn in fury.

They had gotten back on the plane nearly ten minutes ago and were back in the air, heading back to Boston on the private federal jet. The two were still waiting in the conference area for Dean and the rest of the team to call in for a brief on the current state of affairs and the information they had gotten from Paddy.

Amusing himself with the breakfast he had stopped for, Eric ignored the disapproving face of the detective who had found waiting just ten minutes unbearable. He still didn't know what her problem was. According to Jane's logic, he was supposed to live off of solar energy and internal dedication to some abstract definition of justice that she lived by.

As Eric took out the plastic bag of hot pretzels, Jane made a face of disgust. "Really?"

"What?" Eric frowned. "You want one?"

Jane gazed at the bag of pretzels. The man had to be a human garbage can to be able to put away all of those carbs. "No, I'm good," she sniffed the aromatic snack and gagged melodramatically, "Dear god and all that's holy, how can you eat that? It smells like an onion got in a fight with a pair of your lucky socks from college."

"Don't you think you're being a little overly-dramatic, Kate Winslet?" Eric mocked, taking a large bite out of the steaming pretzel. The boyish smile that covered his face nearly lit up the entire room but the annoyed detective wasn't having it.

"Girls don't get into men with fat-asses, Eric. Just sayin'," Jane added.

Eric rolled his eyes. "When do I have time to get flabby? From my semi-professional hockey league, coaching the little kiddies the fundamentals, and all of the responsibilities that come with being a prosecutor, I hardly have time to think, nonetheless get fat." He grabbed another pretzel from the bag after finishing up the first one in record time. "If you're not going to eat, stop bitching and moaning about Doyle. He's ruled Boston for how many years? It's not surprising that he'd still have contacts feeding him information about his biological daughter."

"And that's supposed to be okay?"

"No, of course it's not okay. But there's no use whining about something that isn't going to change anytime soon. Doyle killed for her. He'd do it again if he had to, even if he had to make the call from inside," Eric said, munching the pretzel happily. "Accept it. When he starts forcing his way into your lives, however, then you can call me up. I'd love to tackle a case like that. Imagine the publicity I could get…"

Jane slapped the prosecutor on the head. "Don't go crazy, Grizzly," she said, enjoying his reaction upon hearing his college nickname for a second time that day. Feeling an unexpected vibration against her hip, Jane unclipped her cellphone from her hip. "I gotta take this. Stop crying and eat your pretzel like a good little boy."

Eric stuck his tongue out just as Jane tapped her password for her voicemail. Hearing the number that preceded the message, she smiled comfortingly, knowing Maura's voice would ease her tensions regarding this whole mess. I can't wait to tell her I'm so sorry for being such as jackass, Jane thought eagerly.

"Hey, honey, it's me," Maura's shaky recorded voice said before, unexpectedly, the phone cut off.

Jane stared at the phone in confusion, not sure what to think. She started to pound the phone on the table, figuring the physical abuse would jumpstart the electronic device into working.

"Electronics don't do well with your kind of love, Jane," Eric said wittily.

Jane frowned. "The damn thing just turned off while I was listening to my voicemails. It was from Maura. What if something is wrong?"

"Calm down," Eric replied calmly. "If something was really the matter, I guarantee you that your mother would have called Korsak, who would have called Dean, who would have called _me_ to get in touch with _you_. Maura probably called to say good morning or whatever lesbians say to each other in greeting."

"So you're clairvoyant now?"

"If you're so worried, then use my cell." Eric rummaged around his satchel for his phone. "Call the wife and let her know that you love her."

Jane quickly tapped in the number and waited for the other line to pick up. After several rings, the phone went to voicemail.

"Damn it…"

Eric raised an eyebrow. "She didn't pick up?"

"Obviously, Sherlock," Jane replied sarcastically. She quickly shook her head upon realizing how negative that came out. "Sorry, I'm being a bitch. Thanks for letting me use your phone."

"No problem, I'm used to your verbal and physical abuse," Eric said with a wink. "Don't worry. She'll call back."

The sound of the television starting up in front of them brought their attention to the screen as Dean's face was displayed on the screen. His typical bored expression was even more vivid on the high definition screen, but his eyes shone with abundant excitement. The prospect of gaining an edge on Oscar with much needed intel made all of the last minute finagling with his bosses to get Jane and Eric an interview with Paddy Doyle worth it.

All I want to do is talk to my wife for like fifteen seconds, Jane thought exasperatedly, as she was forced to turn her attention back to her brother and Riley's kidnapping. Is that too much to ask?

"You guys look like you've got something good to report," Dean smiled.

"Why didn't you tell me that this 'source' was Paddy Doyle?" Jane interrupted with a frown. "You don't think I'd appreciate the heads up?"

Dean's eyes appraised the angry detective with a sigh. "There wasn't any time to deal with your inevitable outburst if I had told you. And the source's identity wasn't particularly relevant to the goal of obtaining what we need: information."

Before Jane could offer a witty rebuttal, Eric quickly interjected into the conversation, summarizing the entire interview and the major points for the agent. As he discussed everything with Dean, he inserted the various audio files into a slot into the console where the television was placed, presumably used to transfer the files electronically to Dean's computer.

"So…Oscar is The Cisco Kid that we've been looking for?"

Eric nodded. "It appears so. Cisco and Oscar being one and the same explains why she's been able to stay so low key all these years. Oscar's hidden in the shadows of the confectionary business her father used as a front for years. It's the perfect disguise. Who's going to poke around looking for a drug dealer when she's surrounded by a bunch of multi-billionaires in the confectionary industry? It's made even better when the whole Cisco nonsense is thrown into the mix. Looking for Cisco would be like trying to find El Dorado or Jimmy Hoffa's body."

"But what about that warning he gave you about her sister being a threat?" Dean asked. "Did you two receive any intel about who her sister is?"

Jane shook her head. "We never had a chance to ask him. Our time was tight and it sounded like he didn't want to remember her. I got the vibe that he might have had a bad experience with the woman."

"And your temper certainly didn't help matters," Eric whispered, earning him a strong punch in the ribs from underneath the table.

From the screen, Dean sighed heavily. "Jane, stop beating up our prosecutor. We need him to be in one piece to handle this case after we hand it off to him," he said before turning his attention to Eric. "I've got the recordings and scanned copies of the notes you took down. I'll give one of my techies transcribe duty for the rest. You want me to send you a copy?"

Eric nodded. "I guarantee you if we get Cisco in the flesh for this, she'll have no problem getting the best lawyer team her endless financial resources can buy. Any lawyer fresh out of law school will probably put an appeal in to get the testimony from Doyle suppressed since it was taken while he was in federal custody. They'll claim he was coerced or bribed into saying what we wanted to hear for a lesser sentence as a plea bargain. Having everything written down in plain English will help me get this thing through the legal red tape as admissible."

"Will do," Dean said. "Korsak and Frost spent the night here working on contingency plans to be ready and waiting when you guys come back. We'll go into more detail when you two are on the ground. Good work, everyone."

The signal cut off and Jane sat back in her seat, eyes closed in thought. Being appreciated for her good work meant nothing without having Frankie and Riley back and, most importantly, knowing how Maura was doing. Recalling the message she was able to hear a second off, the blonde had sounded so scared and unlike her normal self that Jane knew something was wrong.

But her mind was running on all cylinders to get her team back from Cisco safe and sound that it was impossible to transition one fear for the next. All she could think about was Frankie and Riley. Maura had to wait, as much as she hated to admit it.

"You could try using the phone from the plane?" Eric offered helpfully as he returned to his pretzel feast after grabbing an iced green tea and some lemon water from the mini-fridge.

"I got voicemail. Changing phones isn't going to make her pick-up." Jane took the bottle of lemon water that Eric offered with a smile. "I'm sure she's fine…"

"Don't lie to yourself. It'll just make you crazier."

Jane looked over at the prosecutor and couldn't keep the smile from her face. Eric might be a complete asshole at times with his tendency to be over-focused about his job, snobby, and inclined to using legal logic but he meant well. When he gave her advice and little nuggets of wisdom, she remembered why she had fell in love with him all of those years ago when she had been a relative newbie in being a detective and an adult.

Jane had no desire to turn back the clock on her life with Maura, loving the goofy woman like an extension of herself, but sometimes she couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if she hadn't of tampered with that evidence back then or if he had asked her to leave with him to Vegas and start their lives over as a couple…

The past is past, Jane thought definitively. In frustration, she poked the man in his ribs, nearly making him choke on his feast.

"Okay, seriously, Jane. The physical abuse is getting a little much, even for you," Eric complained. "Let me eat my pretzel in peace."

Jane smirked. "Do you two need some alone time?"

"Smart-ass."

"Fat-ass."

Eric frowned with a melodramatic roll of his eyes. "So now its verbal abuse? Great, just great. This is going to be a fun plane ride. The see-who-cries-first game is the perfect time waster. Can't wait."


	39. Chapter 39

-/-/-Chapter 39-/-/-

Maura watched the clock in her birthing suite, each calm breath she took punctuating yet another minute spent waiting for Jane's arrival. It was late and there was still no word on where she was. Her contractions had subsided as soon as Maura had gotten comfortable in the bed with Angela by her side, Bart finally heeding to Jane's wishes to wait, but he couldn't wait forever. Angela had done her best to entertain the medical examiner with Stanley's latest OCD quirks yet it wasn't enough to keep Maura's focus away from Jane's increasingly noticeable absence.

"Angela," Maura began, turning her attention to the older woman watching primetime television. "Could you try calling her again?"

Angela nodded. She stood up to make the call outside while Dr. Rose entered with a warm smile. "I see Jane has yet to make an appearance."

"She's got to work," Maura said with a sigh, tired of having to explain her girlfriend's absence and dealing with the stalled labor. She wanted it all to be over.

_Jane…where are you? Why haven't you called me or your mother back?_

Dr. Rose slid on a couple of rubber gloves. "I'm going to do some standard checks of the cervix to make sure everything's moving nicely.

The doctor smiled and began to proceed with her examination of the new mother. Just the slight touch of her hands in the sensitive location made Maura groan in pain. Her eyes closed in silent complaint, embarrassed at the vocalizations coming from her mouth.

After another couple of minutes of careful probing, the doctor rose up with a maternal smile, a slim offer of comfort to the tired patient. At the same time, Angela came in, sadly shaking her head at Maura's unspoken question. With no words, Maura knew what that Jane hadn't picked up. They had been going through this charade for the last couple of hours. Maura knew that nothing would change, not now. Jane had to be busy with last minute preps to get Frankie and Riley back. Knowing, however, did little to assuage her misery. She dropped her head back down on the pillow with a huff of exasperation.

"Everything is coming along smoothly," Dr. Rose said soothingly, noticing the silent exchange between the two women. "Bart's taking his time but this is actually better. It gives you time to acclimate." She took off the gloves with a snap of latex against skin before making a couple of notes on Maura's file. "Within a couple of hours your cervix should be fully dilated and then the real fun will start. Hopefully, little Bartholomew will be coming sooner rather than later. I'm sure you'll be glad when Bart decides to grace us with his presence."

As an unexpected contraction gripped her full attention, Maura could do nothing but release a strangled cry in reply.

Angela watched as the woman she saw as a second daughter suffered through the pains of childbirth. "Maybe you should start preparing the epidural?"

"No," Maura said adamantly, caressing her swollen stomach subconsciously. "No epidural. Bart's coming as naturally as possible. Several studies have shown that epidurals contribute to increased difficulties with latching on post-pregnancy, lethargic tendencies that could lead to decreased fetal heart rate and even depression. I don't want to start him on a bad leg."

With a raised eyebrow of understanding, Dr. Rose chuckled before walking over to the door. She noticed Angela sitting near the television pouting over her cellphone and offered the woman a characteristic maternal smile.

"And you must be Angela Rizzoli."

Angela smiled. "Yes, I came in with Maura earlier. I'm Jane's mother. She told me to take her place if work took her away from the birth." She shook her head with closed eyes. "I don't agree with her decision to just abandon her wife like this though. I've tried calling several times and, so far, nothing. It's like she's in another universe."

"She needs to be here, Mrs. Rizzoli. The reason the labor is taking so long is partly because Maura is so nervous and jittery."

"Oh no…is it life threatening?"

"Bart's coming one way or another. For the health of the mother, however, I'd prefer the birth to be sooner rather than later."

Angela sighed tiredly. "I'll try calling in another couple of minutes."

Dr. Rose smiled in understanding. "And I'll try on my end." She looked over at Maura's shaking body as her head faced the window, tears streaming down her face. She was waiting, waiting patiently for Jane to come to her and offer her the kind of comfort that would make this process easier.

"Bart isn't going to wait for Jane to get here if she keeps dragging her heels," the doctor added.

-/-/-/-/-/-

Filled to bursting with support units and what seemed like every agent on the federal payroll, the safe-house was busy and buzzing with last minute adjustments to the plan in place to make the trade with Oscar tonight. With the controlled chaos threatening to reveal their presence to the unsuspecting neighbors, no one had time to think of anything other than getting Frankie and Riley back without incident.

Jane and the rest of the team were isolated from the energy surrounding them as they sat down in the conference room one last time. Everyone was itching to get started and end this long game of cat-and-mouse with Oscar and Bone. In the privacy of their own thoughts, they had each wished numerous times for the case to be over and done with several times. After nine months of wishing, waiting, and hoping, the realization that this endless affair with Cisco would be finished in another couple of hours seemed ridiculous and exhilarating for everyone involved.

_Just get Frankie and Riley back. It'll all be over, once and for all._

"I shouldn't have to explain the importance of giving it your all tonight," Dean said, addressing the entire team. "This isn't just about recovering our lost undercover officers. For the first time, we've got a chance, a legitimate chance, to take down a known leader in the international and domestic drug trade. Our opportunity shouldn't be squandered."

Everyone nodded silently, the words unnecessary. No one needed to be reminded. Cisco wouldn't escape their grasps this time, not this time. Everything had to go right. Frankie and Riley's lives depended on it.

"Here's what we're working with people," Dean began before explaining to the team all of the information concerning Oscar, Cisco, and Bone from Doyle and how it related to the plan. Besides an added increase in security, nothing had changed. The plan to follow Oscar's earlier instructions by having Jane go in alone and unarmed was still in play.

As he explained the specifics, Jane leaned over to whisper into Frost's ear, "Have you heard anything from Maura or my mother?"

Frost frowned. "No…should I have?" he replied back in a stage whisper.

"I don't know. With everything going on since we got back to Boston, I haven't had a chance to breathe, nonetheless call her. I just want to make sure she's alright."

"I'm sure she's fine. Don't worry."

Before Jane could reply back to her partner's sympathetic sentiment, Dean turned toward the brunette, waiting expectantly for an answer she couldn't give. "Detective? Now isn't the time to be sharing gossip."

"Sorry," Jane said. As much as it was a physical struggle to do so, she forced her mind to stay focused on the matter at hand. Maura would have to wait. "What's the issue?"

"The local squad working collateral will be handling patrol over the area in standard police cars. We'll have our team in plain clothes, keeping an eye out with a low profile so as not to arise suspicion. It's a hell of a lot easier to have a couple of cop cars and officers on the ground that know the area and won't look out of place than bringing in whole army of federal agents."

Jane nodded. She wrote down the details on a notepad as her mind quickly drew out a picture to help her visualize the scenario. "Sounds good. Make sure to keep the local reinforcements down to a minimum though. Having too many cops driving around in black and whites is just as dangerous as having too many feds walking around fiddling their thumbs," Jane said, all eyes on her. "I know it's risky to follow his word here but Doyle said it's important to stick by her rules. I tend to believe him. She's holding all of the cards right now. No need to up the ante when we don't know the rules of the game."

"And you still think it's a good idea to go this alone, Jane? Even after the meet with Paddy?" Korsak asked, clearly disapproving of her decision.

Jane turned toward the man who had always been like a father to her. She knew he was just voicing his opinion based off of pure concern, but a part of her wondered if this concern came from the risk of the situation at hand or the everlasting image of her harrowing experience with Hoyt and his desire to never put her in a situation like that ever again under his watch. Regardless, there was no way in hell she was going to back down on this operation. With her determination, Jane needed to see this through.

"She wants to see me."

"And you think that's wise?" Korsak frowned. "Giving her exactly what she wants? We're basically handing you over on a silver platter. If something goes wrong…"

Jane ran a hand through her tangled loose curls, struggling to resist the urge to scream at her old partner's unnecessary concern. "Korsak, listen to me. Oscar isn't going to hurt me. She knows that hurting Frankie, Riley, or I would mean a lack of collateral to negotiate whatever she wants from us," she said casually, the words running off her tongue as if she had a mental link with the statuesque blonde.

As odd as it might sound to others not connected to crime on a daily basis, this was what detectives in big cases spent every waking moment of catching a killer to achieve: being able to predict the next move. The thought of connecting with Oscar exhilarated Jane like the best roller-coaster ride in the entire world. It was right up there with her love for Maura and Bart. But Jane knew she had to be careful to not become so focused on finally understanding the woman's movements that she lost the big picture.

"If you're so sure, fine. I'm behind you one-hundred percent. But I want to change this plan slightly. I want to be circling in an unmarked with Frost. We know what to look for. A bunch of rookie beat cops working on a task force don't."

Dean nodded. "I was thinking the same thing. Is that alright with you, Frost?"

"I just want to be in a position to help out when I can. As long as I'm not sitting in a van staring at a screen again, I'm good," Frost replied, smiling agreeably.

"Then it looks like we're ready to move. We still have a couple of hours until the meet, but I want to get all of you outfitted in bulletproof vests. Korsak and Frost, I want you two to visit our weapon guy to get you something you'll both be comfortable with. If something happens out there, I don't want you guys trying to get your safeties off in the dark."

Jane smiled at the thought of her comrades not knowing how to figure out their side-arms during an emergency. Everyone in BPD knew that Frost and Korsak were brilliant shots. With her own skills, they were a force to be reckoned with during the Sharpshooting Competition at the firing range every year. Every year the three of them had managed to keep the Sharpshooting Trophy in Homicide instead of losing it to the detectives in the overly competitive Drug Unit.

"We'll be fine, Dean," Jane said. She turned toward the rest of the group with a serious expression. "Remember to keep the electronic use to a minimum. I don't know how Oscar is planning on monitoring us but she told us to not have any bugging equipment within the vicinity."

Korsak leaned forward with a smile. "I've gotten that taken care of. The whole team will be going old-school, no fancy electronic doo-dads. The techies and I have worked out an entire circuit board for walkie-talkies that can't be tapped into or screwed up with white-noise generators. We're completely safe in that department."

"Are we going to try to take Oscar and Bone during this?" Jane asked, checking her clock anxiously.

Dean released a heavy sigh. "If an opportunity arises, then go for it. But if you don't want to risk it, then leave it to us. As soon as they leave the facility, we'll try taking them into custody with our auxiliary team that will be patrolling the area." He turned to the one member of the team who had been silent for the entire time. "Eric? You have any last words for us before we break up for the last time?"

Looking up from half closed eyes, Eric pushed a wayward tuft of hair from his face. "Are you expecting a speech?"

"We don't have time to endure the pain of listening to your loquacious tendencies, Eric."

Eric laughed. "Nice word choice for a federal agent."

"I try," Dean said slyly. "But I meant something associated with the case. Any last words about that?"

With careful movements, Eric stood up to address the team. Despite his tired expression, his eyes were bright with excitement and anxiety to start the last phase of the operation.

"I'm not going to pretend to micromanage all you. You've been doing this for as long as I've been practicing law. So…remember one thing when you're out there." Eric yawned. "Don't fuck it up and keep things legal."

After a brief, stunned silence, Jane shook her head in amusement. "Great pep talk, Eric. You really have a gift for words," she said sarcastically. "But he's right. Stay focused everyone. I want everyone to come back safe and sound tonight. That's should be our main focus besides rescuing Frankie and Riley."

-/-/-/-/-/-

The looming figure of the parking garage in the warehouse district of Boston sat isolated from the rest of the occupied buildings in the area. Several street lights from the main strip barely managed to stretch their orange hued fluorescent light into the alley where the only entrance and exit into the facility stood, kept barred off from the life of the city with a heavy wall of shadow emanating from its inner depths. In other words, Oscar had chosen the perfect location for a meet.

No one would be able to keep a solid visual on the entrance without bringing attention to their location because of the sound of the engine, amplified by the small alleyway, or the bright headlamps warning anyone in the vicinity of an unwelcome interloper. The beat cops couldn't even provide direct back-up without taking the unnecessary risk of tipping off whoever was inside watching for suspicious electric signals. Korsak's smart decision to go old-school with communication was the only thing they could rely on, putting them in an awkward position if things got out of hand.

Damn it, Jane cursed, as she twiddled with her hair nervously. Inside the unmarked vehicle borrowed for this operation, the detective waited patiently for the dashboard clock and her watch to match the appointed five minutes before the scheduled meet time in which she would start walking toward the location.

Besides her own eyes and ears, Jane knew there wouldn't be much of an opportunity for her comrades to assist if things went south. For the first time since starting this whole affair, she was putting her own life on the line instead of working behind the scenes. Except, unlike Frankie and Riley, she was forced to put her entire repertoire of skills on the line as she negotiated the shadows of Oscar's dealings. It hardly soothed her rattled nerves to know that the feds were just as blind as she was on this.

The team will know what to do. They've operated under harder conditions than this before. Without a transmitter, Jane was completely clueless as to how everyone was handling these conditions but hoped for the best. From her side view mirrors, she could see several unmarked cars idling in various positions, their windows tinted heavily to prevent any expected snoops trying to check them out.

Somewhere out there, Korsak and Frost are keeping watch over me, Jane thought. They won't let anything happen. Comforted at the thought, she sighed heavily to release the remaining anxiety from her body.

Unable to resist the temptation, Jane looked back at the digital clock on the dash for the time just as her watch began to ring in alarm. It was finally time to meet Oscar and Bone and get Riley and Frankie back.

Jane felt around her waist subconsciously for all of the necessary items: her trusty golden detective's shield and a hidden Bowie knife freshly sharpened for any necessary usage. The knife wouldn't give her much protection in a gunfight, but there was no way that she was going to walk into an unknown situation without something to turn to if things got ugly. It was a risk, but a necessary one to ensure her safety.

Opening the car door, Jane stepped out, adjusting her black suit jacket and pants before walking purposefully to the alleyway. With each step, the world got colder and colder in anticipation of a long awaited meeting between the two women. She ignored the feeling, focusing on getting everyone out alive.

"Meow…meow," an unsuspecting ginger alley cat purred, sidling up to the brunette with mesmerizing green eyes. The large cat winded between Jane's legs, asking silently for a charitable donation of attention.

Jane frowned. "Not today, little guy. Maybe later, when I'm not busy."

The ginger cat pounced off in search of a late night snack after being rejected, leaving Jane to return back to pounding the pavement toward the entrance of the parking garage.

Reaching the silent abyss, Jane made one last look over the area to search for any cameras or unknown persons keeping a close watch over her presence. After a brief second of analysis, finding nothing of concern, she made her way into the darkness. Further and further she delved into its depths of shadow, ignoring the fear that increased with each lonely step her boots made against the cement. Every echo against the empty space reverberated for longer and longer as she descended deeper and deeper into the maw of the garage, underground floors passing by in a never-ending blur.

_Fear is nothing more than misunderstanding the truth._

Maura had taught her that in one of the many factoids she blurted out on a daily basis. After the shooting that left her with yet another scar of memory, Jane had nearly forgotten what that meant. If it hadn't of been for the goofy, loveable blonde with a heart as big as Texas to help her reclaim the essence of those words in more ways than one… Her life would be totally different.

Maura, Bart…I hope you two are alright, Jane thought ruefully.

"Detective Jane Rizzoli, how nice it is to match a name to a face."

Jane took her mind away from her thoughts to notice the lone circular expanse of light illuminating a lone, black town car and two figures dressed in all black. A long river of platinum blonde waves descended from the figure standing alone, a safe distance from the car and the scarred face of the second figure. It was plainly obvious who each unidentified person.

_Bone and Oscar…finally we meet. _

Cringing in frustration, Jane made her way toward Oscar with a scowl. "Where are they?"

"Patience…" Oscar said sweetly. She extended a hand in greeting to the detective who had finally entered the circle of light. "I prefer to do business with those I'm familiar with. How are Maura and the baby? Bartholomew, right? He should be coming along any day now if my memory serves me correctly."

Hearing her lover and unborn child's name from the blonde's lips, Jane growled in warning. "Where. Are. They. Don't make me have to ask you twice."

Oscar laughed. "Stop trying to scare me, Detective. It won't work," she said coldly. "Every trick you think you know, I've mastered."

Jane crossed her arms. If only she could get a clean shot at punching the woman in the face. The commanding aura coming from several feet behind them where Bone stood watching with glaring eyes reminded her that that wasn't the brightest idea. From the bulge near his waist, she could tell he was packing a Beretta or a Sig Sauer, two things she wasn't exactly prepared to deal with.

"I know everything about you, Silvia. You know everything about me. Why waste time playing games? Let's get down to business." Jane said.

Oscar narrowed her eyes at the use of her given name. Within the blink of an eye, her friendly act was dropped, revealing the true ice underneath. The air surrounding the two powerful women became even colder as the unspoken tension fizzled and cracked in the miniscule space separating them from each other. Jane wanted to wrap her fingers around the blonde's neck but resisted the temptation…somehow.

"I have a proposition regarding this trade. I discussed this earlier if you remember." Snapping her fingers, Bone walked forward with two tickets and a cell phone before returning back to his position next to the passenger side door. "With one phone call, I will direct you to a post office box containing lists of every member Cisco has had dealings with, both internationally and domestic. You and your team will be in a position to make the biggest bust in history and they'll be plenty of accolades to go around to share with the feds. Enough filth to spread around."

"You're kidding," Jane replied, dumbfounded.

Oscar smiled. "Hardly, Jane. This is a once in a lifetime deal. Your UCs' lives along with a master list of those involved in Cisco's affairs for a small trade-off."

"And the small trade-off is?"

"Bone and I will be allowed to leave Boston forever." Oscar flashed the two tickets in her hands. "Within an hour, we'll be out of your hair, forever."

"So you can do business down the street in another state?" Jane asked incredulously, shaking her head. "I'd have to be on crack to let you go with that plan. No can do, Silvia. I'm not going to let that happen."

Oscar sighed heavily before turning around to signal to Bone. Bone opened the door of the town car, revealing the scared faces of the bound and gagged cops. They were ushered out of the vehicle and pushed down to the cold, cement floor to wait. Besides looking slightly worse for wear, Frankie and Riley appeared to be uninjured.

"Frankie!" Jane called out, tears of relief coming to her eyes.

When Frankie looked at his sister with excited eyes, Bone slammed his heavy fist into the young officer's head, nearly knocking him unconscious. Riley made a muffled squeal from her gagged mouth as she struggled to comfort Frankie, soothing his rapidly swelling face.

"Bone!" Oscar commanded, turning her head to the bored man behind her. "What did I say? Don't harm the hostages. If you touch them again like that, I will shoot you."

Jane clenched her jaw to restrain her temper. "If I don't beat you to it," she muttered, enjoying the slight smirk that came across Oscar's face.

With a roll of the eyes, Oscar returned her focus back to the detective. "Jane, I need you think. You of all people should understand the ramifications of making a decision based off an emotional impetus. Taking the moral high road and sticking to your principles will result in the blood of your brother and his girlfriend on your hands. Can you live with that unimaginable burden? I suggest you reevaluate your decision."

"There's no need for me to 'reevaluate'. I know who you are, Silvia. Or should I say Cisco Kid?"

Oscar's eyes sparked in fury. For the first time in a long time, she had to make adjustments to her plan in dealing with the detective.

"You don't control me like you do all of your other lackeys. If anyone is going to be making demands, it's me," Jane said. "I'm taking them back with me. Anything you want or expect is going to have to be done on your own time and risk. I don't trade a life for a life, Silvia."

Oscar chuckled. "Well…aren't you the little investigator?" she said, sarcasm dripping from each syllable. "So you've figured out my poorly designed ruse. So what? I hardly keep it a secret that Cisco and I are one in the same, Jane."

"Then how come no one knows this little fact?"

"Because they're too stupid to think outside their little box of possibilities. It's not my fault some people are born blissfully naïve."

Jane narrowed her eyes. "Then why keep your files locked up like they're a part of Ft. Knox?"

"In my line of business, Jane, it's a lot easier to not have a shadow following you around, potentially making things difficult."

Jane made a move to respond but Bone stepped forward with a frown, his eyes looking at the driveway leading up to the next floor.

"What's wrong?" Oscar asked, following his eyes.

Bone frowned. "We have company."

Right on cue, the sound of a high-performance engine rumbled down the cement driveway leading down. The darkness swallowed the car but Jane was sure that the mystery car speeding toward them on squealing tires had to be cherry-red muscle car, each rev of the engine reverberating through the cement cavern.

In confusion, Jane turned to Oscar for an answer as to who the intruder was but the statuesque blonde's face revealed nothing except annoyance. The car skidded to a halt, stopping right in front of the detective. She nearly backed up in obvious fear but, with a quick step, Bone moved to protect both of the women from the unexpected visitor.

_Who the hell is this guy?_

"Bone," Oscar snarled. She watched the familiar messy head of blonde locks explode from the driver's side of the car with a loud exhalation much like an angry boar readying to charge. "Be careful. My own personal demon has decided to make an appearance."

"Shit," Bone cursed, his hand inching toward his concealed firearm. "What the hell is she doing here?"

"To cause trouble, as always."

As the blonde walked toward them, Jane instinctively motioned for Frankie and Riley to hide behind the car for their safety. She placed one hand on her hidden knife in preparation.

"Lea, darling," Oscar said disingenuously. "Haven't seen you in a while. I thought you were in Washington. Regardless," she made a sweeping motion with her hand, "we're a little busy at the moment handling adult affairs. Go home and we'll talk later."

Lea frowned, hardly noticing the familiar detective next to her sister. "Aren't you at least interested in where I've been for these last months, Silvia?"

Oscar rolled her eyes. "No, because I have dealt with these sorts of stupid shenanigans since you were fifteen. You get your feelings hurt or realize that the world doesn't revolve around you and your interpretation of how things really are and you run off with your tail behind your legs like a pathetic, little puppy. So no, I'm not particularly interested."

With a sigh, Oscar turned slightly to dismiss her sister. The silence was interrupted when the sound of screaming bullet ricocheted off the town car, just missing the taller blonde's shoulder by a fraction of an inch. Jane immediately backed up in warning to meet the threat, mentally registering the muffled sound of shock coming from behind the town car.

"Jane," Oscar screamed out, already lowering her body into a protective crouch. "Get down and protect your people."

Before Jane could find the words to respond, all hell broke loose as another gunshot from above ricocheted in the distance. While running to the safety of the car, keeping as much of her body to the ground, she barely recognized Bone doing everything in his power to defend Oscar and Jane from Lea's crazed assault. Cement shrapnel from the ricocheting bullets on the floors and ceilings flew off her body, cutting into her exposed flesh but the detective was focused on her own personal safety and getting to Frankie and Riley. The younger woman's eyes flashed wildly in the light of each shot, emphasizing the bewildered expression of insanity coming from Lea's stupid smile.

What the hell is wrong with her? Jane wasn't surprised to see the agent here, figuring she was a double agent since Dean had told the woman to go back to Washington. Lea was a bad seed. But having to dodge and weave for her life in a parking garage while Oscar's right hand man defended their safety against the woman's storm of bullets hadn't been in her mind as a possibility. God knows what Oscar was thinking.

_And I thought my family was screwed up._

As Oscar and Jane made their way around the protection of the car, the sound of a heavy body hitting the cement followed by a fatal breath of air released from the lungs echoed loudly, putting an immediate halt to the bullets cutting into the air around them.

"What was that?" Jane asked, trying to peer around the car. The circle of light, however, didn't extend far enough for her to see what the conclusion of the firefight had been. "If I knew you were going to bring your crackpot of a sister to the party, I would have brought my own team of feds to play along with us."

Oscar ignored the witty comment as she peeked over the hood of the car. A rare sign of emotion crossed her face before the strong woman lowered back down under the protection of the car. Turning her attention to her friends, Jane made her way to Frankie and Riley's crumpled figures near the car. Moving to free them from their bondage, she noticed from the corner of her eye the trails of tears descending down Oscar's face but ignored the unusual emotional response from the woman as she focused on freeing her team.

"Did you see that, sister?" Lea's voice said proudly. "Ding-dong, the bastard is dead. Got him right in the heart. He looked so sad when he went down. I think he might have wanted to tell you how much he loved you before he went bye-bye."

"You've done the unforgivable, Lea. Damn you…" Oscar's voice broke as emotion clenched her throat closed. "He was… Bone was my…my best friend, my comrade."

Lea laughed heartily, unperturbed by her sister's suffering. "What will you do without your loyal lackey, Silvia?"

Finally finishing up cutting the restraints from Frankie and Riley's arms and legs, Jane leaned over to tap Oscar on the shoulder. The blonde looked over at the detective with a confused expression.

"Why is she doing this?"

"Why do you want to know?"

Jane rolled her eyes. "She's shooting at both of us. Now isn't the time to be playing the power game."

With a teary smile, Oscar began to tie up her long hair into a tight ponytail. "Bone died protecting you _and_ me, Jane. Make sure his sacrifice doesn't go in vain."

"Why?" Jane managed to ask before Oscar raised an arm in surrender. She wiped the tears from her eyes, stood up, and began to walk from behind the car with confident steps. From behind the car, the detective watched the two sisters as they got closer to each other.

"You've made a horrible mistake, Lea. Killing Bone is one thing but killing him in front of cops who've already put you in their sights is reckless. That's a murder charge waiting to happen."

Lea holstered the gun back on her belt. "You can't protect me from everything."

"And you think I want to?" Oscar exclaimed between clenched teeth. Her hands came up to clench Lea's red turtleneck, nearly choking her younger sister in frustration. "God, you're such a fucking dimwit, Lea. Why do you insist on playing these childish games with me and your life?

"If you want my respect than earn it. Do something that you've never done in your entire thirty-two year life, grow up and prove to me that you can handle independent decisions without me having to pull the strings and clean up the shit you inevitably leave behind. Is that so hard for you to understand? Every time I let you handle yourself for a minute, _one single fucking moment_, you destroy everything I've worked for as if they don't matter."

"You're a heartless bitch, sister."

Oscar guffawed, her entire body shaking with the humor of the situation. Lea watched in frustration as her sister blew her off with laughter. After a brief moment, the taller woman brushed her long blonde locks out of her amber eyes with a dangerous smile.

"And you're a waste of air. The only reason you have my last name is because my father couldn't convince your brain-dead mother to abort you when she had the chance. Please, Lea, tell me something I don't know especially if you intend to insult me," a slow smirk painted itself across Oscar's beautiful face, "my dearest half-sister."

With an angry scream, Lea took her gun out of the holster and aimed it at Oscar. Time slowed down as every single second magnified in Jane's eyes as she struggled to interpret the situation. Risking her life to save an international drug smuggler from her sister wasn't something she had trained for in the academy. The hammer inside the gun cocked in preparation to jettison the bullet from the chamber, waiting for Jane to let instinct take over and make the decision for her.

I've gotta do something, Jane thought. But what was the question she couldn't answer.

In a flash, the solution presented itself in the same woman she had thought needed protection. Oscar sprang from her stance and glided behind Lea, taking her head in between her arms in a dangerous chokehold. Lea squirmed in an effort to free herself, turning blue from lack of air.

"Stupid little girl," Oscar whispered before cracking the smaller woman's neck, killing her instantly. "That was for killing Bone," she turned her tired gaze over to the cowering three cops behind the car, "and for risking the lives of innocents in our family affairs. I should've known you'd do this; but, for some stupid reason, I trusted you to stay out of my way. Why…why did I even waste the effort?"

Making sure the risk was diminished, Jane moved toward the two cops. "You two alright?" she asked, helping them up.

"Yeah, yeah, we're fine," Frankie mumbled, spitting out a wad of blood from his bruised mouth. Besides a couple of stitches inside his mouth, he would need nothing more than ice and rest on the left side of his face. The young officer had seen worse in basic training in the academy. "Finish the case, sis."

Jane turned to Riley. "And you?"

"A little sore and tired," she replied with a weak smile. "Frankie's right. Go take Oscar into custody before she does something stupid."

"I'll be back. Don't move. The feds should have heard all of this and they'll be down here in a couple of minutes," Jane said, running off toward Oscar standing lifelessly over her sister's dead body, her tired eyes taking in the saddened expression on Bone's frozen features. A heavy layer of lukewarm blood covered the dead and the living, washing away the unspoken sins of the past, replacing them with new wounds. Oscar watched as the waves of Bone's blood pooled around her leather boots, rare tears from her eyes connecting one last time with the tears shed by her only true friend in his last breath of life.

Jane stepped carefully forward. She didn't want to interrupt the intimate moment of grief but the job took precedent over respect for the feelings of a criminal. "You know what I have to do, Silvia."

"I know," Oscar mumbled. "But…I need you to stop calling me Silvia."

With a sigh, Jane lowered her eyes to the floor. "You're under arrest, Oscar Grey, for the murder of Lea Grey and suspected international drug smuggling," Jane said quietly, kicking the used gun out of Oscar's reach. "Do you…need a moment?"

Oscar turned to the detective with bloodshot eyes. "No, it's time to end all of this. I'm tired," she said, offering her hands. "I have some plastic handcuffs in my car if you didn't bring any. Front seat. Can't miss it."

"I brought my own," Jane replied. She quickly restrained the woman's hands without a fight from the withdrawn blonde. "Listen, I'm sorry about how this all turned out, Silvia. I didn't really plan for this to happen."

"Neither did I, Jane. Neither did I."

Suddenly, the sound of screeching tires and police sirens echoed through the underground space as the feds arrived with back-up. One after another each car stopped in front of the crime scene and their occupants spilled out, filling the room with identical agents and undercover BPD cops.

"Jane, what happened? We saw a red car coming in nearly an hour ago and thought it was Oscar," Dean exclaimed, rushing toward the detective. He looked over the mess of a scene with a quick, appraising eye. "Oh, I see. We'll…take care of it from here, Jane. Good work."

Dean took Oscar by the shoulders and directed her toward his unmarked. Frost came running up to Jane, ignoring Frankie and Riley as they were being escorted away with Korsak.

"Jane," Frost yelled. "We need to go."

"What are you talking about?"

Frost shook his head, dragging the detective away from the buzzing scene of federal agents beginning to start their investigation of the crime scene. "We don't have any time. Angela's been calling your cell all day. While you were taking care of Oscar, she called me in a last ditch effort to reach you."

Jane frowned, immediately beginning to panic. "Oh god…"

"No, it's good news. Maura's gone into labor. Bart's coming, like right now. We need to get to Boston General."

Jane opened the car door with far too much force. The door nearly broke off its hinges in protest of the rough treatment. She didn't know whether to cry or faint. "Let's go then. Use the sirens and the whole nine yards. Maura's going to murder me for missing his birth."

Nothing else mattered now except getting to the hospital to see her wife and baby boy. Frankie and Riley were safe. Oscar was finally in custody, where she belonged. Jane could finally return her focus back to what really mattered: her family.


	40. Chapter 40

-/-/-Chapter 40-/-/-

Jane crashed through the doors of the birthing facility, pushing aside nurses and doctors as if they were nothing more than obstacles. Behind her, Frost tried earnestly to keep up while offering apologies to anyone unlucky enough to get in his partner's way. Both detectives couldn't erase the look of worry from their faces as they pounded down the maze of nondescript doors, hoping one would lead them to Maura's room.

While driving to the clinic – breaking every speed limit in the process – Frost had tried to ease his own anxiety about Maura and the baby by using logic but Jane mostly tuned him out, unable to focus on small talk with all of the guilty thoughts running rampant in her exhausted head. Each question she asked her consciousness was met with the voice of Maura replying to her contemplation.

_Why did I even decide to go after Cisco after all these years when I knew Maura wanted to have a child? Did I even think? Why would I place the job ahead of my family? Yeah, I caught Oscar after all of these years but at what cost? What if Bart…oh god, Maura, I'm so sorry._

"Jane, why? Why would you leave me and your unborn child during the time when I needed you most?" Maura's voice continued to ask in a mantra of guilt. "You never wanted a child. This was your way of telling me. Leaving me alone during labor? Maybe I should leave you alone? Let you see how it feels."

"No!" Jane screamed mentally, causing her guilty subconscious to cower back slightly. "Maura loves me and I love her. She wouldn't leave with our child. So I made a mistake, big deal. It happens to everyone."

Maura disembodied voice laughed. "Not as much as it happens to you. I can't believe how selfish you are to really think I can just take all of the bullshit you throw my way. I'm not a rubber band, Jane. One of these days, I'm not going to snap back when you stretch my love beyond its limits."

Jane shook her head, denying the words. They weren't true. She wanted Bart now. Things had changed from her beliefs all of those months ago. As long as the three of them were together, everything would work itself out. Maura knew how much she meant to her. She wouldn't leave, never.

Suddenly, Jane felt the reassuring weight of Frost turning her down a lit hallway toward a door. "She's in here, Jane," he said, opening the door for his trembling partner.

Expecting absolute chaos and amniotic fluid dripping from the walls, Jane was taken aback at the serenity surrounding the room. Maura sat up in bed with a blissful expression as a small swaddled bundle of red flesh and a fine downy sprinkling of chocolate brown hair suckled away at the blonde's breast. An experienced nurse stood near the side, providing any assistance to the first time mother on how to encourage the lively baby to latch on. Angela watched from across the room, taking joyous picture after picture, her face swollen from all of the tears of happiness.

Cooing to her baby boy, Maura looked up with dreamy eyes. "Jane? Don't just stand there. I've got someone who wants to see you."

Frozen in shock, Jane could do little more than blink dumbly at the exhausted yet content blonde waiting for her upon her throne of hospital sheets and pillows. Is that…is that really our son, she thought, unable to grasp the reality in front of her. The world began to fade to black as her eyes began to close…

"Frost, grab her before she hits the floor," Maura ordered softly so as not to disturb the feeding baby. With a quick step, Frost grabbed the woman before she hit the ground. Angela quickly ran over to assist, but Jane regained consciousness and brushed them all aside to see her baby boy.

Maura smiled as the detective made her way toward the side of the bed. "He's such a strong little thing."

Jane nodded, tears coming to her eyes. "Just like you."

The red tinged bundle, hearing the raspy voice that had spoken to him for several months, twitched his head away from the leaking nipple. Despite only being a couple of hours old, Bart scrunched his face in an effort to mimic the smiles coming from his two mommies. With a sneeze, the baby squirmed inside his swaddling to greet the familiar voice but the blue swaddling wrap was far too tight around his new limbs for him to free his arms and legs.

"Do you want to hold him?"

Unable to speak, Jane nodded again, subconsciously aware that she must look like she'd gone stupid. Maura carefully handed off the squirming pile of flesh with the same dreamy expression that had been locked on her face since Jane's loud entrance.

In an effort to regain her voice, Jane coughed softly. "Hey there, Bartholomew. You know who I am?" she asked, enjoying the odd feeling of maternal pride beginning to settle over her like the embrace of an old lover.

Bart twitched his face slightly before releasing a squeal of delight.

"So you do remember me. That makes me so happy," Jane whispered lovingly, kissing the happy newborn on the forehead. "Our little Bart…you have no idea how good it is to see you after we waited so long. I hope you didn't cause Mommy Maura too much pain?"

Bart made a small sound before attempting to squirm in her hands.

"I'm gonna take that as a no. Good boy," Jane cooed, blushing at her odd display of girlishness.

Maura beamed as she watched the two establish a unique bond. When she had first held him after the delivery and helped him latch on for his first feeding, she had done the same thing with their son. The blonde was as happy as she could imagine herself ever being but something still needed to be dealt with.

"Umm, Angela?"

Angela came forward. "What's wrong, dear?"

"Nothing," Maura beamed. "Could you take the nurse and Frost inside the nursery room? He deserves to have some time with his godson while Jane and I…chat."

After saying their goodbyes to their newborn son, Frost took the boy in his arms and followed the women into the sterilized nursery room attached to the mother's room. Jane turned back to Maura with a guilty expression.

"I'm sorry for not being here-"

Maura interrupted before Jane could get started with her memorized drivel, "I called, Jane. Several times."

"My phone died coming out of Philadelphia."

"Then you could have used someone else's."

Jane sighed. "I did. I called you on Eric's cell but you didn't pick up. With everything else going on…I was preoccupied."

"Too preoccupied to check on your pregnant wife who told you that she was experiencing Braxton-Hicks contractions?"

"I don't even know what Braxton-Hicks contractions are."

Maura rolled her eyes. "Dr. Rose explained to you what they were several times, Jane. Sometimes I really wonder where your mind is at."

After giving the shamed detective an impressive glare, Maura lowered her body back down to the pillows with a heavy sigh of her own.

"I'm too tired to be mad at you. At least you're here now," she said before turning her attention to the various battle scars – some still wet from trickles of blood – covering Jane's arms and face. Maura immediately went into Dr. Isles-mode, shaking her head at her lover's wounds. "God, Jane…what happened to you? Did you get into a knife fight? Tell me how everything turned out? Are Frankie and Riley alright?"

"What happened to Frankie? Is Frankie hurt? Why doesn't anyone tell me anything?" Angela's muffled voice interrupted from behind the closed nursery door. A squeal of complaint from Bart's small lungs soon shut the older woman up.

Jane ran her hands through her tangled hair. "I swear my ma is the undisputed champion of annoying me like nothing else," she whispered toward the closed door before turning her focus back to her worried wife. "Everything turned out perfect, honey. We got them back and Cisco is in custody, for good this time." With a warm smile, Jane lifted her saddened eyes to Maura's gaze, taking her left hand in her own. "Listen…I'm truly sorry for not being here for his birth."

Maura kissed their entwined hands. "Jane, look at me. I know that you can't stop being who you are and this job is who you are. You care about helping people just as much as I do. I knew all of that before we decided to give us a chance. But…things have changed since all those years ago when you were recovering from that bullet wound. We have Bart in our lives now. He's our son. He needs us to be there for him completely. I'm not asking for you to stop doing what you love, but I need you to understand that your family, this family, is your priority now. Being the hero of Boston has to take a backseat."

"I know," Jane replied.

"Don't just tell me what I want to hear, Jane. If you can't handle this, I won't think any less of you. You can just move into the guesthouse until you find another place."

Jane frowned. "Another place?"

"You really think I'm going to have a negative influence on Bart just because you aren't ready to grow up?"

Jane looked over at the closed nursery where Bart enjoyed his time with his grandmother and godfather. From the window looking into the small room, she could see that Frost was watching the nurse show him how to swaddle the watchful baby. Angela, on the other hand, was focused on being as nosy as possible, leaning her ear toward the door to catch any juicy tidbits for later discussion.

Her focus kept returning to Bart as he played with his godfather's large hands. That little, helpless bundle was depending on them to raise and support him. To put someone or something ahead of that enormous responsibility…she couldn't let that happen. Bart needed both his biological and birth mother to step up to the plate. Maura had proven ready to handle the responsibility. Now it was time for Jane to do the same.

Within her heart, the same odd sensation of shifting priorities that she had felt with Clementine rose back to the surface with a vengeance, subconsciously alerting her to her new focus as a mother. All of the cop politics and solving puzzles immediately lost their appeal as the images of parenting that had feared her so long ago came back to her mind.

"I'm ready to give up everything to help you raise our child, Maura," Jane said, her eyes burning with resolve. "Nothing else is as important as you and Bart in my life. I love you and my son. You two are all that matters and its time that I start showing you that instead of just saying it. So…," she took a shaky breath to steady her nerves, "I know I should have a speech prepared asking something like this, but I just kinda decided it right now because it feels right."

Jane cleared her throat, surprised at how nervous she felt. It was now or never. What's the worst that can happen?

"Maura, would you like to… I mean, uhm, will you marry-"

Maura placed a single finger on Jane's lips. "Don't say it. Just…yes, absolutely I will marry you. I'll always say yes, always. You know how long I've been waiting on you to say those words? I thought I had every scenario planned out but, here you are, surprising me as you always do-"

"Oh my god! I'm going to be a mother-in-law!" Angela's muffled scream echoed into the room, interrupting the couple's private moment. Bart squealed a second time which brought the sound of Frost's echoing reply for Angela to be quiet.

Unable to keep the tears at bay, Maura released the torrential waterworks as a caged sob of relief bubbled from her lungs. Jane took her wife in an awkward embrace, ignoring the tears that started to fall from her own eyes.

"You always make me cry. Why do you always do this to me?"

Jane chuckled. "I hope they aren't sad tears."

"A little bit of both," Maura smiled.

With a blissful smile, Jane leaned back from her lover with a raised eyebrow. "Never again. Never again will I make you cry sad tears."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Romeo."

"So I'm Romeo now? I hope you'll decide to be my very own Juliet. We'll right our names in the stars," Jane said, blushing in embarrassment at the romantic fluff coming from her lips. "But can I ask a question?"

Maura frowned in thought. "It's actually 'may I' but of course, sweetheart."

"May I kiss you now?"

Maura raised an eyebrow before giggling adorably. "You never have to ask."

-***-***- End of Part 4 -***-***-


	41. Chapter 41

-/-/-Chapter 41-/-/-

Nearly three months had passed since the chaos of the birth and the kidnapping. Everything had returned back to normal, except with the inclusion of the new baby boy in the mix. Jane and Maura had struggled for the first couple of months to develop some sort of schedule that put Bart's needs in the center of their lives, but with his lovely and calm temperament, they had developed into a quick routine that worked for the two first time mothers.

Handling the night shift, Jane snoozed on the small bed in the nursery, her mind waiting for the mental wake-up call that would alert her for Bart's last scheduled feeding. The nightlight spinning comfortably in the mobile above his crib played renditions of Maura's favorite concertos, illuminating the glow-in-the-dark stars painted in the walls of the nursery. Bart, sleeping happily with a contented smile, squirmed in his sleep, unable to keep still even in his dreams.

As the minute hand on Jane's watch ticked to the 12, marking the new hour, her eyes opened just as Bart made a small plaintive cry from the crib.

Cracking her neck, Jane stood up, eyes drooping slightly from her interrupted sleep. "Right on time, Bart," she said lovingly, making her way toward the crib. She turned off the baby monitor so as not to wake Maura in the bedroom with their usual late-night conversation. "I think you just like waking Mommy Jane up."

Bart gurgled happily in response, pounding the mattress with his covered hands and feet happily after hearing his mother's familiar raspy voice.

Jane looked into the crib with a sense of pride at the beautiful baby waiting expectantly for her attention. Despite being outfitted in apricot hued footed pajamas, Bart was as happy as ever, oblivious to the late hour.

The child's springy curls were askew over his head, some even dropping into his soulful eyes, but she couldn't help smiling at how much the little guy's abundant sweetness reminded her of Maura. It only made sense after spending nine months developing inside her that he would take on certain aspects of her personality, but the similarities were uncanny. Seeing the two the together…sometimes the level of adorableness threatened to make the detective's heart melt.

With a beaming smile, Jane lifted her son out of the crib. She kissed his giggling face before lowering her head to sniff his diaper. "Just a feeding break, huh? Let's gets some moo-moo then."

Bart squealed in delight as he was carried to the small feeding area near the window. Jane reached down to the small refrigerator and took out one of the color coordinated glass bottles filled with breast milk.

In order to keep her body producing milk, Maura had to pump regularly, leaving her with extra. After insisting with her to use the stuff instead of wasting it, she had proposed using the milk during feedings at night so the two of them didn't have to lose sleep while doing a job meant for one person.

Maura had been skeptical until finally managing to get a full night's sleep after several weeks of being without. Little ideas like that made their lives that much smoother with the new baby in the house.

"First we have to warm the moo-moo up," Jane whispered as she placed the cold bottle into the bottle heater. As the bottle warmed up, she counted down the digital time out loud, enjoying the look of rapture in Bart's face as the two bonded with each other. Each motherly smile and baby giggle in response brought her closer to her son as her mind began to finally associate the child as her family.

"Five…four…three…two…one," Jane said, clapping happily at the end. She took out the bottle and tested the warm liquid against her skin to ensure the milk wasn't too hot. Deeming it acceptable, she offered the meal to Bart which he happily accepted.

Watching him suckle on the nipple, Jane played with the small emerald and diamond bracelet custom designed by Cartier on behalf of Constance and her husband as a gift for the baby. Featuring his full name inscribed in a metal bar linking the chain of jewels together, the thing easily cost more than most of the few pieces of jewelry she owned in her paltry collection.

If it had been up to her, Jane would have put the thing in a jewelry box. It was just too showy for her tastes. Bart was still a baby boy, not a lord of a fiefdom – but knowing Maura's side of the family, she wouldn't be surprised if Bart had inherited a castle in some minor Eastern European countryside. Constance was already inviting the family to a Christmas holiday in one of her husband's "private villas" on the Tuscan coast. Who knows what they've got stored away?

Jane hadn't appreciated seeing her son being adorned in such unnecessary opulence at such a young age, but Maura's cloying demeanor and whimpering puppy dog eyes had weakened her resolve. The bracelet was staying.

Bart made a small sound with his mouth as he released the empty bottle from his lips. As if realizing how late it was, his attentive eyes began to glaze over.

"Oh no you don't," Jane warned playfully to the nodding off Bart. "We need to burp you first."

With a slight rocking motion, Jane began to walk around the room while tapping her half-asleep son on the back. He burped soon after the mandatory pacing began and she congratulated him on his small achievement before setting him back down in his crib. The baby cooed to his mother with his usual goofy smile and dropped into snooze mode, leaving Jane alone to clean up the used bottle.

"Aghhh…" Bart complained, interrupting her before she could leave.

With a smile, Jane turned back. "I can't believe I nearly forgot." She clutched the small plush manatee off the counter, placing it in his crib with a kiss on the forehead. "Here's Mr. Puff-Puff."

Bart giggled again at Jane's name for the stuffed manatee. Given to him by Elias, the manatee was always close by her son's side. Maura loved to talk about some kind of attachment bullshit whenever she saw him holding on to the animal but, like always, Jane tuned most of the smart jibber-jabber out.

"I love you, Bart," she said, kissing him on his soft forehead with a smile.

Jane turned the baby monitor on after settling Bart back on his warm bed. She left the nursery door half-opened before heading downstairs to clean out the bottle in her hand. Each step was a struggle against sleep, but she willed her body forward. Just one more thing to do and I can get back in bed with Maura, Jane thought, ignoring the realization that she only had three more hours of night left.

"Damn it," Jane groaned in mid-yawn, lowering her head in exhaustion. "I forgot I have to head into BPD tomorrow."

"Which is why I told you I could take over the night shift tonight."

Jane turned to see Maura coming from around the corner wearing shorts and a too small t-shirt that hinted to the flat, well-toned stomach underneath. The blonde had spent no time in getting the baby weight off. She had considered working out just one of her responsibilities to her body even with the baby zapping all of their time and attention. In all honesty, Jane didn't know how the woman managed it all.

I think having the baby made her even more attractive than she was before, Jane thought. Something about Maura's demeanor…she couldn't quite place it in words but the woman was definitely more secure with herself. No longer was she just a socially awkward, goofy medical examiner with a screwed-up family life. For the first time, Maura had a place that was both fulfilling and relaxing all at the same time. She was a mother of their child. Nothing would be able to take that away from her.

"I couldn't do that to you, honey. You know how fussy he gets in the morning if you don't do the feeding. And besides," Jane smiled playfully, "you know Bart tolerates me. He positively adores you. I'm just the one he turns to for a distraction."

Maura rolled her eyes. "If this is another subtle jab against me breastfeeding him, you could always help out. Dr. Rose said she could put you on a prescription to assist in your lactation-"

"Vomit!" Jane interrupted loudly. "I enjoy my breasts just the size they are, thank you very much. You, on the other hand, do well with the whole breastfeeding thing." She appraised Maura's enlarged breasts with a nod of approval, barely able to stop from drooling all over her shirt. "They look fantastic. I just want to…gaze at them like they're a special delivery from the Louvre."

"Oh god, you really need to get some rest before you say something that earns you a slap upside the head," Maura said, taking Jane's hand so they could walk upstairs together. "So how was Bart? I peeked in before I came down. He looked like the cat that ate the mouse."

"Canary. It's 'the cat that ate the canary.'"

Maura raised an eyebrow. "That's an incorrect argument. Several studies have shown that domesticated housecats can be raised around pet birds without activating the cat's prey drive. As long as both animals are properly separated-"

"Maura…please, I've been up all night with the baby. Give me a break."

"Sorry, I forgot," Maura said apologetically, as they entered their bedroom. Both women collapsed exhaustively in their fortress of sheets, lavishing in the feeling of satisfaction that took hold of them.

Maura snuggled up into Jane's open arms. "I hope Cavanaugh doesn't plan on reinstating you early."

"Yeah, I know, but a part of me, and don't get on my ass about this, wants to get back to work."

"Jane…"

Jane sighed. "I know, I know, my place will always be here with you and Bart. Things are still unfinished though. I have no idea what's been going on with Eric's prosecution of Oscar. The last I heard, the feds have her under their custody while things are being settled in the pre-trial process. Knowing her, she's probably sitting around like the belle of the ball, ordering people around."

"I don't know…" Maura began hesitantly, playing with a button on Jane's pajama top.

"What? What do you mean you _don't know_?" Jane raised her body up on her elbows as a disapproving frown came to her face. "Oscar is a criminal, Maura."

Maura frowned. "Yet Bone saved Frankie, Riley, and you by protecting you against that crazy sister of hers. Jane, she didn't have to let him sacrifice his life."

"Oh don't get waste your sympathy on her. He was protecting his boss. We just happened to be in the way of that goal," Jane said, her tone ending the line of conversation.

"Maybe…but from what you told me about Doyle's comments about her, I think she was one of the good ones. I think the idea of all of you getting hurt concerned her more than Bone's death."

Jane dropped her heavy head back on the pillows. "How about you _stop_ thinking and just relax? Trust me, it won't hurt to let that big head of yours take a break."

After a brief silence, Maura poked Jane in the scar tissue, waking the tired brunette back up. "Maura…please, I really am tired."

"Just one more thing," Maura said bashfully. She fiddled with her ring on her finger nervously. "Has…has Frost talked to you about what's been going on at BPD and the morgue?"

Jane nodded tiredly. "Yeah… When he came over last weekend to hang out with the baby, he said Pike is holding everything up by getting nothing done on time and giving wrong reports. If you stay out any longer, we'll be attending his execution."

"Oh…so people probably want me to come back."

"Does that surprise you? Everyone loves you at BPD." As soon as the words left her lips, Jane realized what Maura was so anxious about. "Maura…if this is about the nanny argument, we don't have to get one if you don't want to. And I offered to cut back some time. If we both cut back a couple of hours, things will work out."

"I know…but I just…don't want to make a decision based off of settling. It was my dream to give Bart my whole attention and now…it's like reality won't let that happen," Maura said sadly.

"Everything will work out."

Maura sighed. "I hope so. We're running out of time to figure something out."

-/-/-/-/-/-

With an impressive feat of balance, Jane unlocked the Aston Martin's doors while clutching a toasted bagel between her teeth and a full thermos in one hand. The heat from summer was finally managing to crack, a cold morning breeze taking its place.

Glad she had chosen to wear her thicker fall suit instead of the lighter summer one Maura had chosen last night, Jane began to juggle the thermos as to open the car door. All of a sudden, the sound of Bart's babbling baby musings and the blonde's encouraging cooing gave the detective pause.

"Maura…I'll just be a couple of hours," Jane complained, shaking her head at Maura as she strolled toward the car with a multicolored, monogrammed diaper bag and Bart next to her chest in his custom sling. With each step, the sun played in her recently cut, strawberry blonde locks, illuminating her abundant smile.

"I know, I know."

"So why are you coming out with all of this," Jane made a face at all of the baby gear, "stuff for Bart? I'll be back in enough time to pack everything up for that Mommy and Me swimming class at the Y."

Jane cringed at the thought of enduring the stupid class. Going with Maura and the baby wasn't the issue, she actually liked spending time playing in the water with Bart. He loved the water almost as much as Maura did. The problem was more the people she was forced to interact with during the class session. Most of the couples had experience with childrearing and they loved to lord it over them like they were failing some unknown parenting test. Jane wanted nothing more but to find another swimming pool that wasn't quite so…stressful but Maura insisted on sticking it out because of Bart's budding friendships with the other children.

_Budding friendships my ass…he's three months old, Maura. He recognizes us, Frost, and Mr. Puff-Puff, that's it._

"Jane…"

Jane made a comical face. "Maura…please, not that tone. I hate that tone. It always results in me doing something against my will," she pouted, just managing to set down her coffee on the hood of the car.

"I wouldn't have to use that tone if you didn't have smartass comments running around in your head," Maura replied. She gingerly opened the passenger side door to secure the diaper bag inside before returning her focus to their giggling son, amused to hear his two mommies bickering. Dressed in a orange and yellow tie-dye overalls with matching socks and hat, Bart stretched his plush arms to grab a stray lock of hair from Jane's shoulder as she buckled him in the car seat. "We're going to his swimming class, whether you like it or not. It's important to instill consistency with a developing child."

Jane frowned miserably. "Can't we do the French immersion thingie? I'd rather listen to you say sexy French phrases over ignoring the looks of misery from the other couples at the pool. All of those horny husbands are imagining us playing ring-around-the-rosie on the kitchen counter and I know it."

Maura blushed in embarrassment. "Well…I kind of forgot to make the descriptive labels. In order for the immersion to work, Bart has to connect the verbal linguistic elements with the written symbols of the vocab-"

"You know what, I totally get it. No need to explain it in detail," Jane interrupted, moving to help Bart into the car seat. "But you still haven't told me why you're coming along."

"I want to see whether Pike is really as bad as they say."

Jane narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Anything else?"

"And…I think Bart should see his extended family at BPD."

Opening the door for Maura, Jane stopped in midstride, completely baffled by Maura's words. The medical examiner was notorious for being protective over Bart, carefully screening anyone with her research skills for any potential risks of contagious illnesses. Given her desire for a child, it was understandable that she wanted to be protective over their son but Jane, used to a rough and tumble childhood, didn't agree with the stance. Just one of the many things they had begun to compromise on.

"I can't believe you're actually agreeing to this. You fought me nail and tooth over it just a couple of weeks ago."

Maura smiled, kissing the shocked brunette on her sculptured cheek. "That was then, this is now. Bart is three months old. His immune system is well-developed now, so the health risks are relatively low. And, besides, he needs to get out with different people to increase his socialization skills." With a playful pat on the shoulder, she opened the car door on her own and got inside, leaving Jane looking bewildered.

After a brief moment, Jane walked back to the other side to grab her coffee and get inside the Aston as well. The purr of the engine returned her focus to the idea of seeing her BPD family again after having been separated since the operation and maternity leave. She had never thought that she would actually miss the sound of Cavanaugh's creaky door opening to call her into her office or the smell of cheap cologne, sludge-like coffee, and hot donuts.

_I miss them… I miss seeing and working alongside them, trying to crack a suspect._

Jane backed out of the parking spot next to the house after Maura had made one last check on Bart to make sure he was comfortable and secure. The baby stretched his small yellow sock covered toes as his hands clutched his mother's fingers. She giggled in reply; clearly enjoying her son's focused attention.

"Maura…you should have kept him in the sling if you were going to play with him."

Maura released a shocked breath. "Are you kidding? Babies under the age of 23 months should be in a car seat. What if we had an accident-"

"Which won't happen," Jane muttered under her breath as she changed lanes to avoid a sudden stop in traffic.

"Regardless, I'd rather not take the chance with Bart's safety," Maura continued. She turned back to the front once the baby settled into his seat. "Jane…do you mind if I ask you something?"

"There's no reason to ask. Of course you can."

Maura took a casual sip of Jane's coffee, cringing at the strength of the caffeinated concoction. "Do you still find me attractive?"

Nearly crashing into the car in front of her, Jane struggled to keep her eyes on the road, away from her lover's blushing face. She had no idea where the question had come from. It had been awhile since they had made love, but with the baby and everything, the detective had assumed sex was the last thing on Maura's mind. It certainly was the last thing on hers.

Jane gulped as her hand twitched nervously upon the leather covered steering wheel. "I'd be an idiot not to."

"Then why haven't you made love to me? As soon as I attempt to touch you, you shirk away like a skittish colt," Maura demanded. She moved to place her hand on Jane's knee, instantly causing nervous shivers to shoot up her spine. "Is it because of my body? I've lost most of the baby weight. My breasts are still a little disproportionately large compared to their pre-birth size, but I thought you'd be into that since you're so in love with my 'ample assets', as you call them. Or…is it something else?"

"I've just been tired, honey. All of these night shifts with Bart take some time to get used to. As odd as it might sound, sex hasn't even been on my radar."

"Jane…"

"No one makes me as crazy as you do, Maura. I love that about you. That's never gonna go away. But having Bart has made me realize that my priorities are on his safety and wellbeing. My needs can wait," Jane said earnestly, offering her wife a comforting kiss on the lips. "I don't want you to worry about something as trivial as if we've met our sex quota for the month. You and Bart are the only things that matter to me. I've screwed up enough times to finally realize that."

With a loving smile, Jane turned her attention back to the typical recklessness of morning Boston drivers who were in various states of caffeine intake. Only in Boston was it legal to sideswipe a parked car on one of the narrow streets built for horse carriages back in the 19th century. Most of the time, the offenders were tourists who didn't have the Boston streets-smarts required for living in the city without murdering someone in pent-up frustration.

Jane, however, was a master of Boston's urban landscape, a skill developed in her youth and sharpened in the academy. Utilizing her knowledge of back roads and small alleyways, she got them to BPD in record time. The detective flashed her badge at the officer sitting at the gate of the parking garage, both women enjoying the familiar response he offered to them and their sleeping son.

Jane drove into the lit depths of the concrete box toward Maura's customary parking spot. Against her will, the memories from her experience in the parking garage with Oscar and Bone snuck up on her but she quickly tempered them back into their compartmentalized hole in her busy mind. There would be time for introspection when she was dead. Maura's spot was empty, but next to the reserved space stood a navy blue Vespa, covered in a transparent protective plastic.

Must be Pike, Jane thought with a slight smile. Only the pretentious doctor would dare risk the level of embarrassment required to drive an Italian scooter to a police department where some of the most macho men in Boston worked.

As if recognizing the importance of the visit, Bart reawakened from his mini-nap to gaze curiously at the grey interior of the parking garage, his giggles infectious with each faint echo of his own small voice against the walls.

Getting out of the car, Jane helped the squirming baby back into his sling against Maura's protective body. Cooing at his antics, the detective tickled Bart's feet, eliciting a happy giggle before he relaxed against his birth mother's beating heart. Jane took out the diaper bag and the empty thermos as Maura adjusted her son's tie-dyed bonnet against his messy head of bouncy curls.

"You got everything?" Jane asked, looking over her shoulder before locking the door.

Maura did one last check. "I think so," she replied thoughtfully, making a funny face at the squirming baby trying in vain to climb out of the sling. "I probably should have brought the stroller though. Bart's is determined to develop his ingenuity and agility by escaping from me."

"I'll hold him until he calms down." Jane took the excited baby out from the sling, cooing at his attempts to join them in conversation. Bart settled into his typical spot over Jane's strong shoulder, glad to have an opportunity to see the new, monotone surroundings.

As they stepped into the elevator, Jane began to attach her badge to her belt. She poked the diaper clad bottom next to her face, inciting a pleasant bubble of childish giggles to fill the interior of the metal box. "I don't understand how you can be so cute all the time, Bartster."

Bart clapped his hands as he struggled to stretch his arms to grab his mother's gun. Noticing his interest in the dangerous item, Maura grabbed his face and kissed his forehead.

"He inherited it from me," Maura smiled.

Jane rolled her eyes in faux misery. "Well, isn't that great? Now I've got two people in the house I can't say no to."

Maura poked her lover in the scar tissue just as the elevator door opened, revealing the welcoming smiles of the homicide unit holding a welcome back banner. Korsak and Frost stood nearby with expectant smiles of their own, absolutely ecstatic to see their old partner back in BPD after her long break with the baby.

"Welcome back!" the detectives screamed at the top of their lungs, completely oblivious to the baby in Jane's arms who promptly let out a scared cry in response to the unexpected loudness.

With a disapproving frown, Jane shushed everyone before moving to comfort Bart and wipe away his tears. Upon seeing the adorable bundle staring curiously at the new faces, ever detective began to back up to give the family some room as they made their way to Jane's desk. Korsak was particularly interested in the newest addition to the Homicide family, bouncing on the balls of his feet to catch the baby's attention.

"Okay, okay…you all want to see the baby, I get it. He wants to see you too, but remember no touching without cleaning your hands first," Jane said, focusing on Korsak in particular. "I don't want him to get sick."

Maura rolled her eyes. "Jane…"

"What? I'm repeating what you told me."

"His immune system is fine now. He's hardly in the critical age period anymore."

"Oh…well, still wash your hands. God knows where they've been." Kissing Bart on his head, Jane handed him over to Maura who happily began to show the little squirming bundle off to the others. Frost tapped his partner on the shoulder before taking her into a friendly hug. "Hey, Frost. How's everything been since I've been gone?"

Frost shrugged. "Nothing much has changed. You know the routine. Riley took some time off to get her head back in order."

"Aww…look at his cute little giggling. He looks like a chocolate chip cookie without the chips. I just want to eat him up," a male detective known for his muscle mass squealed in excitement, interrupting Jane's conversation with Frost. Jane couldn't help but smile in response as everyone melted around Maura and the baby, Bart happily lapping up the attention with his characteristic goofy smile.

Looks like my son's welcoming is going well, Jane mused. She was glad that everything was turning out well with her brief return back to headquarters but even more excited that Riley had put her pride aside to take her earlier advice to talk to someone about what happened during the undercover operation.

"Cavanaugh has been waiting on you in his office."

Jane frowned. "Yeah…I know. It's about time I talk to him about everything that went on with the feds," she said, glaring at the ominous door that had been the object of many nightmares. "Watch over Maura and Bart for me, Frost. You are his godfather after all."

"Will do," Frost said. "Good luck in there."

"Thanks. Hopefully I won't need it."

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

As usual, Cavanaugh's office was set in shadows, light perpetually forbidden from gracing the entire room's various darkened corners and crevices. His desk was surprisingly bare from the usual paperwork and organized clutter required of a lieutenant leading one of the most elite and high-profile divisions in BPD.

"Lieutenant," Jane began customarily out of respect, "you asked to see me?"

From his desk, Cavanaugh looked up at his detective. "Yes, I did." He made a slight motion with his hand for Jane to sit down in her usual seat. "I heard all of the commotion outside. Did you bring the baby for a visit?"

Jane stared pitifully at the uncomfortable chair, wishing she could just remain standing. God, I hate that damn chair, she thought, cringing at the sadness that would inevitably come as soon as her ass touched the seat. With a reluctant sigh, she sucked up the pain and trudged toward the painful seat.

"Yes, I brought Bart and Maura with me. She wanted him to meet his uncles and aunts in blue. Would you like to see him? Maura wants to check on Pike before we leave so we'll probably be a minute."

Cavanaugh shook his head with a smile. "I'll check the little guy out. If he's still as fat on his two loving mother's attention, I better make sure my heart can handle all of the cuteness," he attempted to joke, failing miserably. "But I actually called you in to talk to you about some last minute affairs concerning the operation you did with the feds. Good work, by the way. It turned out beautifully for everyone involved…except Cisco."

Jane ran her hands through her tangled knots of hair. "Yeah…I guess it did. But, sir, I really need to talk to you about how my schedule is going to pan out when I come back from maternity leave-"

"Deputy Commissioner has taken notice of your recent performance as well," Cavanaugh interrupted. "Ever since your exemplary representation of what a cop is supposed to do with the siege and the Heartbreaker serial, the public has been putting pressure on the brass to give you more than just a simple accommodation." With a beaming grin, he slid a slim folder across his desk. "Congratulations, Rizzoli. You've been promoted to Sergeant."

_Wait…what? I'm a three-bar? But…how could this be?_

"Speechless isn't something I see often from you, Rizzoli."

"But…sir, I haven't taken the exam."

"They know, Jane. You're a special case, however," Cavanaugh said. "The public's…impact has made the Deputy Commissioner go for a different approach. You'll have to endure a big ceremony in front of City Hall or wherever but the dog and pony show is nothing to worry about. You're going to get promoted to Sergeant regardless." He leaned back in his chair before narrowing his eyes at the dumbfounded detective. "For a new Sergeant, you don't seem too excited by your promotion."

Jane sighed, clutching the armrests to keep from falling out of the seat. "I'm just stunned, sir. What does this exactly entail for me? Am I going to have to sit on a desk for the rest of my career?"

"Of course not," Cavanaugh said, taken aback by Jane's words. "You've been around Korsak enough to know what a Sergeant's responsibilities mean. At the most, you'll have more paperwork and babysitting with the press during high-profile cases."

"And the benefits?"

"You'll have the ability to pick your cases and supervise younger officers officially."

Jane smiled mischievously. "And…"

"And you can get a higher discount and line privileges downstairs at the café," Cavanaugh said, returning the brunette's smile. "Is that what you wanted to know?"

Jane laughed. What had really put a smile on her face was finally having the option to choose her cases now with her rank increase. Since Bart's birth, she had intended to follow through on her words of placing Maura and her son's needs first and foremost. Each day her mind had gone back and forth trying to figure out how to remain a detective without having to put in 14 to 18 hour days. Now, as if from the heavens, her problem was solved in a way that would make both her and Maura happy.

_I guess you pulled through for me, God. You screwed up royally with Clementine, but you gave us Bartholomew and helped gain me enough juice to gain a promotion to Sergeant. Thanks, really for letting all of my hard-work pay off, but I'm still not going to confession. There are not enough hours in the day to tell that poor priest all my sins._

"How's my brother?" Jane asked, silently praying for her brother to share her good fortune.

"Well…with you and Korsak as sergeants, I need another detective to come in, preferably someone who has shown initiative and talent. While you've been gone, I've been looking high and low for someone who fits my requirements…"

"And?"

Cavanaugh smiled. "I decided to bring Frankie on as our newest Homicide detective. His performance in the joint-operation spoke for itself. He's beyond ready to join us in the big leagues."

As much as Jane wanted to jump up and cheer for her brother's big step, she forced her mind to relax enough to ask a question that had been on her mind since Riley's move into the unit. "Why didn't you promote him before, last year?"

"Because he was too content to sit in your shadow, Jane. A homicide detective can't just be in a murder investigation, they have to act and be confident in themselves and their skills to see them through whatever happens," Cavanaugh said, looking into his cold cup of coffee miserably. "Frankie wasn't ready to do that a year ago. He's ready now."

Jane stood up from the unbearable chair. Each sizzling sting of pain that had been shooting up her calves to her pelvis subsided as she shook out the kinks in her long legs. "So I'm guessing Riley and Frost will be partnered together?"

"Actually…I was thinking of keeping Frankie with Riley since they already have a rapport from their nine months together. Frost should be fine working alone or with you, depending on the case. Will that be a problem, Sergeant?" Cavanaugh added, emphasizing the detective's new rank.

"Nothing is going to change, Lieutenant. I'll be getting on your nerves by the time I come back." With a slight smile, Jane turned on her heel to head out of the office. "Do you mind if I head out? Maura's probably getting an ulcer waiting for me to take my turn with showing Bart off."

Cavanaugh stood up. "Of course, Jane. I'll be out in a minute to see the baby. I have some business to finish up."

Jane nodded before opening the door to see everyone – Bart wearing a pair of mini-earmuffs – standing near her desk, surrounding a large cake celebrating her promotion.

"Congratulations, Sergeant Detective Jane Rizzoli!"

"What…" Jane began, absolutely speechless for the third time today.

Maura released the baby's small plush hands from manipulating them to clap for his mother and stood up to give her lover a warm kiss. After a respectable silence from the unit, the blonde broke away from Jane to allow Bart to share in the family affection, bringing him up to her lips to get a kiss as well. Everyone cheered for a second time, joyous to see one of their own so happy.

"I'm so happy for you," Maura said joyfully. She pushed a stray lock of dark brown hair behind Jane's ear, enjoying the sensation of her smooth, olive skin against her fingers. "I can't believe I get to make love to a Sergeant now," the blonde added in a stage whisper, bringing a rare pink flush to Jane's cheeks.

After all of the customary congratulations, Jane finally managed to drag Maura away while everyone began to tear into the cake. Wanting none of the sweet treat, she happily encouraged the detectives to eat their fill of the blue colored, sheet cake. Frost, taking his godfather duties very highly, took Bart off the two mothers' hands to help soothe the entertained baby for his regularly scheduled nap in the quiet of the stairwell.

Upon entering the relative solitude of BRIC, Maura took Jane into her arms and gave her the passionate kiss that she had wanted to give since hearing the news. Despite the detective's surprise, she happily took the blonde in her protective arms as their tongues happily reacquainted after nearly three months apart. She gasped as the sudden feel of the cold brick against her back shocked her back into the reality that she was making out with her longtime lover in the BRIC.

"Can you believe this," Maura said against Jane's swollen lips. "You're a sergeant now. And you're always talking about how you don't have pulp."

Jane smiled. "It's called 'juice', sweetheart."

Maura's face squinted into her thinking face. "You've told me that before, haven't you?"

"Back when I was just strongly in like with you," Jane joked, playing with a golden streak of hair. "You'll get it eventually."

Maura shrugged. "I don't know why it's so difficult for me to get these darn idioms down. Why'd you drag me in here? Bart's such an easy baby, but I don't want him to get scared sleeping without his mommies present."

"I can pick my cases now."

"So…"

"So you don't have to work so hard to figure out what we're going to do with the baby's caregiving schedule now. With the pay raise, I can work while you stay at home full time, if that's what you want. Or we can balance both of our time. I can do the night shift and you can do mornings until we enroll him in daycare-"

Maura quickly silenced Jane with a press of her finger against the excited woman's lips. "Jane…stop for a minute."

Jane nodded like an obedient little girl. With a pleased smile, Maura dropped her finger from her lips.

"I want…" Maura broke off slightly, her mind still figuring her thoughts out, "I still want to work, Jane. You don't have to factor in your promotion as a way to solve our caregiving situation. This is a proud moment for you."

"But…Maura, I want you to be free to choose whatever option you think is best for Bart. You said you wanted to stay at home and be with him full time."

"Yeah," Maura whispered. "I know. Still, I want to wait until I make any final decisions." She lifted a trembling hand up to caress the taller woman's beautiful face. "Can you do that for me?"

Jane stared into the labyrinth of green and brown that frequently mesmerized her into doing whatever Maura wanted. It was just one of many talents the blonde developed over the years of their relationship to gain an upper-hand over the domineering detective.

"Fine…I'll wait. You tell me when you've made a decision that you're comfortable with and then we'll talk things out."

Maura beamed, kissing Jane for a third time. "Good. So now that is worked out…I'd really like to get back to your party, Jane. That cake looks pretty good."

Jane laughed heartily. "I wouldn't touch it unless you've acquired a taste for sudden diarrhea," she said jokingly, holding the door open for Maura. "Frost made it. As sweet as he is, he's just as bad at cooking as I am. The last time he made cupcakes for the squad resulted in a massive rush to the bathroom."

"Diarrhea can be a natural consequence upon digesting raw or poorly cooked food. It's the body's defense against the inevitable sickness that the food in question would cause. Frost's cupcakes couldn't have been that bad."

"Ohh, they were, Maura. Cake should never leak when you bite into it. Whatever that juice was, it tasted suspiciously like piss, dirty water, and that gunk you find caked up on the bottom of a used trash can. And don't ask how I know what all of that tastes like."

Maura nodded in understanding. "An osmological panel."

Narrowing her eyes, Jane crossed her arms. "That's not a word I agree with, Madame Thesaurus. You made that up, didn't you?"

"No, silly. When have I ever made up a word?"

"The last time we played Scrabble."

"Jane…I told you, 'xenoglossy' and verecund are both considered words in the English dictionary."

"Yeah, if you consider an English dictionary used by Oscar Wilde a dictionary still worthy of use."

"You're just mad you lost," Maura pouted, sticking her tongue out in a coquettish fashion.

Jane rolled her eyes. There was no point arguing with the medical examiner when it came to book smarts like vocabulary. She would always lose. "Fine. You win, again. But I want to see a dictionary when we get home so I can look up those words. And make sure it's a _modern _dictionary. You can be a sneaky little thing when you want to be."

"Me? Sneaky?" Maura asked melodramatically, moving toward the closed door with a knowing smile. "You must have me mistaken with another chief medical examiner."


	42. Chapter 42

-/-/-Chapter 42-/-/-

The party finished up as soon as the cake began to dwindle to nothing more than crumbs and remnants of frosting coating the box. Frost had come back from calming Bart to sleep in the stairwell and the baby was completely knocked out, all of the action from the morning proving to be too much for him. With their son back in their possession, Jane wanted to go to the car to let Bart sleep comfortably in his car seat but Maura insisted for her to follow her to the morgue to check things out.

"Honey, it can't be that bad," Jane said encouragingly as the elevator door opened, revealing the quiet atmosphere of the morgue. "Pike can be…"

Maura quickly filled in the blank, "Difficult."

Jane rolled her eyes as they walked the short distance to Maura's office. The blinds were down but she could see slight movement inside. "Yeah…okay, that wasn't the exact word I was going to use but whatever. The point is that he wouldn't do anything that you wouldn't do. He knows the boundaries."

Maura made a small sound of disbelief before she lifted her hand to knock. Realizing the stupidity of knocking on her own office door, she clutched the door handle and twisted it open with a determined face. Jane watched from behind the blonde, cradling Bart in her safe hands. Completely oblivious to the nervous energy emanating from Maura, he babbled softly in his sleep, feet twitching in response.

"Oh my god…," Maura whispered as her eyes took in her office.

Jane frowned, immediately moving to investigate. She moved Maura to the side and saw what had elicited such a strong response from her lover. "Well…this is different."

The eclectic office space normally filled to the brim with an odd mash-up of African, Roman, and modern art and architecture was replaced with Pike's stuffy emphasis on conservative colors and styles. Much like Sherlock Holmes's study, the small room was cramped with all of Pike's various achievements. One framed picture of the older man posing with his Particle-Vac nearly made Jane gag with how fake it looked.

Sitting in the white chair behind Maura's desk, Pike looked up innocently at the slack-jawed visitors in the doorway. "I wasn't expecting you two today." He smiled at the small bundle in Jane's arms. "That must be Bartholomew… Don't put him down anywhere. It's incredibly difficult to get baby spit up out of early 20th century velvet upholstery."

"You've got to be kidding…"

Maura's eyes darkened in a rare sign of fury. "Jane," she said through clenched teeth. "Go take Bart back to the car while I talk to Pike about his…job performance."

"Yeah…that would be best," Jane replied. She clutched Maura's hand before heading out with a shake of her head.

Maura turned her attention back to Pike. "What the hell have you done to my office, Pike?"

"You made me chief medical examiner," Pike blubbered, taken aback by the explosive blonde glaring at him from across the room. "I changed some things to make me more comfortable. Your dramatics aren't necessary."

"Where'd you put my artifacts?"

Pike motioned to an office down the hall. "They were professionally packed and placed in the old handwriting analysis room."

With a heavy sigh, Maura walked over to Pike sitting in her chair. "Get up, Dr. Pike."

"Excuse me?"

"Get out of my chair and take your stuff out of my office. I want you back in Worcester. Today."

Completely baffled, Pike stood up like a fire was sparked under his seat. "But…why? I've done such a great job as your replacement."

"But you clearly don't think of it as a _temporary_ arrangement. That's a problem," Maura added, her mind made up. "Please leave. Finding someone else to replace you until I come back won't be incredibly difficult."

Pike frowned. "So…you're not quitting?"

"Of course not," Maura replied. "I belong here just like you belong in Worcester." She turned on her heel while moving her cell to her ear. "And make sure you put everything back the way it was before. If you get lazy, I'll head down to Worcester myself to punish you."

"But…"

Maura smiled as the person on the other end picked up within the first ring. "Hey, Jacobs. I need a favor. You think you could work as a temporary replacement for me? I know, I know. I'll owe you big."

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

"So you just told him to get out of your office?"

Maura giggled at Jane's shocked tone as they stood in the shallow end of the pool. Bart's loose curls bobbed in the warm water as his little legs paddled in some attempt at rhythm. Unlike the other couples who had to subtly force the other children to interact with their fellow pool-mates, Bart happily swam around the enclosed area, his floatable baby wings splashing with each friendly gum-toothed smile given to anyone and everyone.

"Well, what was I supposed to say?" Maura asked as she steered the adventurous baby away from the rail blocking the deeper depth of the pool. Bart squealed in delight before continuing his paddling towards the steps leading out of the water while his two mothers followed close behind. "Pike had no right to _change_ my office. How would you feel if I reorganized your tool box or washed your old Converse?"

Jane frowned. "Which pair of Converse are we talking about?"

"The one's with holes in the soles and scribbled in Sharpie."

Nodding in understanding, Jane pushed a wayward lock of wet curl from her back. "If that's the case, I totally understand. That's totally invasive of him. I would have shot him if he did that to me. Or, better yet, I'd take the engine out of his Vespa."

"Two wrongs don't make a right, Jane."

"Ohh well thank you for that piece of knowledge," Jane said sarcastically. "I'll make sure to put it down on my list for further study."

Maura rolled her eyes before turning her attention back to Bart. While they had been talking, the baby had made his way to the raised steps and waited patiently for his two mothers to make their way over to him. Sitting beside Bart was a lone man wearing a plain black suit with his toned legs in the water, his trouser legs rolled up so as not to get his clothes wet. The two were clearly getting on swimmingly as the man said something which immediately elicited a laugh from Bart's grinning face.

Without hesitation, Jane went into protective mode. She quickly glided through the water with Maura in tow to investigate the man that was messing with their son.

"Hey," Jane warned. "What are you doing?"

The man looked up with a smile. "It's just me, Jane. I know we haven't seen each other in a bit but forgetting who I am is a little rude."

_Of course…it would be him._

"Eric?" Jane said, relaxing slightly as his heavy mane of black hair and dry voice registered in her memory. "Shouldn't you be handling the case with Oscar? The judge let you out early?"

Eric's face twitched as he handed Bart over to Maura. "Maura…do you think I could talk to Jane for a moment? I'd hate to get in the way of your family moment."

"Whatever you need to say, you can say it to me too," Maura said strongly, glaring at the prosecutor. "Right, Jane?"

Without hesitating, Jane nodded. "What's up, Eric?"

"Oscar's going to get away this time."

"What?" Jane exclaimed, her voice reverberating off the tiles in the indoor swimming pool. All of the babies in various states of leaving the water released a shocked cry from the noise. Despite their reactions, Bart nuzzled into the crook of Maura's neck, preparing the soft skin for an unscheduled nap after swimming class.

"But how can this be, Eric?" Maura asked, comforting the tired baby with a soothing series of caresses. "Everyone worked so hard to get her for so long…"

"Her legal team is forcing me into a plea agreement. At Oscar's," he sighed heavily, "_lengthy_ indictment, in exchange for the list she offered with the names of everyone involved in her business, she wants to be released."

"Releasing her is ridiculous. Did she fail to inform her attorneys about the two dead bodies sitting in the morgue? Oscar killed her sister right in front of me."

Maura poked Jane on her damp shoulder concerning her inappropriate language around the baby. Completely oblivious to his mother's language, Bart watched the few remaining babies still paddling in the warm pool, his feet pedaling slightly in unison.

Eric smiled at Bart's adorable actions. "Oscar's flipping the scenario as self-defense to protect those in harm's way against her sister's mental breakdown. The judge is actually considering it a viable option. Apparently she wants to get out of the business. Claims she'll leave the US permanently as soon as she's freed." He shook his head in frustration. "Judge Johnson is tired of all of the media circus over this one woman. He wants the case to be over and done with and the quickest way to do that is encourage me to move forward with offering the plea. I'm going to have to sign off on it."

"That's bull-"

Maura coughed loudly, signaling the end of Jane's cursing. Jane frowned apologetically before offering an apology to Bart's ears.

"What's to say she's telling the truth, Eric? For all we know, she could be using this as an opportunity to get away scot free and start up her business elsewhere where the heat isn't as hot."

Eric shrugged. "I know, Jane. I've spent the last couple of months thinking the same thing."

"And you're just gonna let her go?"

"What do you want me to do? The feds have already signed off on it. At this point, the rest of this sham of a trial is just a formality."

Crossing her arms, Jane narrowed her eyes. "I thought you wanted her off the streets as much as I do? Clearly not since you're just ready and willing to give up."

"I've atoned for my past mistakes. And so have you." Eric took his feet out of the pool and began to wipe them dry with his towel. "We've done the best we can. Oscar is out of Boston. Her operation is all but shut down, at least in the US. That's good enough for me."

"Yeah…I guess."

Eric stood up from the pool with a smile. "Maybe it's time you focus on your family now that the past is dealt with? A family isn't something to waste," he added under his breath.

Jane turned to look over at her girlfriend stepping out of the pool with their son on her shoulder, the blonde focused on caring and little else. The woman was glowing with pride, maternal love, and something else that Jane couldn't name; but Maura's mood was infectious, fertilizing the blossoming feelings in the detective's own heart.

"I think you're right, Eric," Jane smiled. "I think the past needs to be put to rest. Everyone important to me has been waiting for me to push play on my life. It's time for me to do just that."

"So…what are you going to do now?"

"Hmm…I think it's time Maura and I start planning that volcano cliff wedding she's always wanted. We'll make it our first family vacation." Jane turned to Bart with an adorable expression. "Would you like to be Mommy Jane's ringbearer when Mommy Maura and I tie the knot?"

Bart released a squeal of delight, his gummy smile infectious with cuteness.

"Well, I guess you need to start clearing your schedule, Eric. Looks like the Rizzoli-Isles clan is gonna be heading to Santorini for a wedding."

-/-/-/-/-/-

-/-/-/-/-/-

-/-/-/-/-/-

A/N - I hope everyone enjoyed the last chapter of the story. As you can see, given the ending, there will be another installment coming up. When, I have no idea, but, knowing how I write, it'll be awhile until my creativity can find time to actually sit down and find time to write. Thanks again for reading and reviewing. Each reader gives me the initiative to continue uploading all of my creative vomit aka ffs on the web.


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